To Carry On
by Black Hole Phoenix
Summary: This story follows my OC, Princess Eliza, whose six brothers have been turned into swans. Despite all his efforts, her father has found no way to break the curse. So he must turn to the one person he swore he would never approach... Rated M.
1. S1 Ch1 - The Six Swans

First of all, some disclaimers, explanations of where I got part of my inspiration, and some theories:

I am NOT in any way affiliated with ABC, Disney, or the television show "Once Upon A Time." I claim no rights to any of their established characters or storylines. Originally, only Eliza/Paige Cygnus, her family, and her prince were my own creations, but as my story has progressed, I have created several additional original characters.

Eliza/Paige's story is taken from the Grimm fairy tale "The Six Swans." I have given it a "Once Upon A Time"-style twist, adding Rumpelstiltskin and his deal-making as elements in her story, and taking her to ABC's Storybrooke, where her happily ever after is also being ruined.

Her name in fairy-tale land, Eliza, is taken from a 1977 animated film called "The Wild Swans". It was made by the Toei Animation Company, with which I am also NOT affiliated. I loved this movie as a child, so since both characters were based on the same nameless maiden from the fairy tale, I wanted to give that movie homage by using this name, although I have changed the "s" to a "z."

There was also a Hans Christian Anderson version of the story, wherein the maiden was named Elisa, although she had 11 brothers. It was this story in which she had to gather nettles and knit them into shirts, as in the movie, but it was the archbishop who despised Elisa when his king brought the mute girl to become the queen. I am taking elements of both stories, so while Eliza will have to knit nettles into shirts, it will be Mike's mother who is so taken against Paige in my story, just as in the Grimm version of the tale.

Also, I DO NOT KNOW what ABC's intentions, aims, and/or goals are, nor do I claim to know anything about the nature of the curse itself. However, I do deal with the nature of the curse a bit in my story, and have based all my information regarding that and other topics on my personal theories:

~First of all, for the purposes of my story, one of the essential "clauses" of the curse is that, whenever time should start again, every situation in Storybrooke must mirror as closely as possible the situations in fairy-tale land. For instance, Ashley/Cinderella must be mere days away from delivering her child, and she must have absolutely no contact with Shawn/Prince Thomas. Also, she must have some form of agreement or contract to give her baby to Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin. For that matter, the position in which Regina/The Evil Queen finds herself can be said to be similar. While she may no longer be capable of fully loving someone, she has shown that she does care for Henry, as much as she can. So, just as The Evil Queen was still keenly feeling the loss of Daniel, now Regina is feeling threatened by Emma's presence, fearing that she is losing Henry. Now, this is important because, based on this theory, _why isn't Mr. Gold incarcerated when the clock starts up again?_ This story will answer that question.

~Also, there is some debate as to the Storybrooke history of the characters. Some people think that they've been living their false back stories for the past 28 years, while others disagree, saying that they're just kind of wandering around Storybrooke not knowing their past. Even Henry, in the second episode, said that they don't remember their pasts, and that if you ask them anything, it's all just a haze to them. However, the show has proven to us that they at least know some things, things that explain their current situation. For instance, Ashley knows that a deal has been brokered for Mr. Gold to take her baby, though the circumstances are, of course, different in Storybrooke. I feel that Henry certainly should have noticed if nothing ever changed, nobody ever grew any older. It would cement his fairy tale theory. Also, given that _he_ has clearly aged in Storybrooke, he definitely would have noticed if he was the only kid in school who ever progressed to the next grade at the end of the school year. It may be that they all have only vague memories from further back (possibly anything before the past ten years is vague!) But Paige and Mike know at least certain things about their respective (false) pasts, because those things have some bearing on their current situation.

Now, on to the story itself!

Please enjoy!

* * *

><p>In a large and well-appointed palace garden, a young woman sat playing a noisy card game with her six younger brothers. She was a plump yet pretty 23-year-old, with a simple silver tiara perched on her red hair. Her brothers ranged in age from 7 to 16, but only the 14-year-old twins shared her fiery locks. The rest had hair of a rich chestnut color, which matched the hair of one of the two men watching them through a window, though his hair was going to grey beneath his golden crown.<p>

"Such a lovely little family," smirked the king's guest. "Six strapping boys and a pretty little girl. What more could a king ask for," he queried, an almost oily tone underlying the cheerfulness.

"Just keep watching," the king replied tersely as a clock began to strike the hour. Being in the same room with Rumpelstiltskin made his stomach clench, but even the Blue Fairy had been unable to lift the curse. Since he already knew was about to happen, the king stepped away from the window. His heart was old and broken, and he could not bear to watch this time.

"What indeed," murmured Rumpelstiltskin to himself as he turned back to the window, smiling greedily.

The card game seemed to have ended, and even though the window was too high up to catch more than a muted sound of conversation, it was clear that the princess was very sad. She was embracing each of her brothers in turn, while the others stood close by, reaching out to pat her shoulder or her hair comfortingly. Then, upon the sixth and final stroke of the clock, the six princes sprang up into the air while large white feathers fluttered about. When the air cleared, six swans were flying south, and the princess, now alone in the garden, fell to the ground weeping.

"Yes," mused Rumpelstiltskin, "I see your problem."

"What must be done to lift this curse? Please," the word nearly stuck in the king's throat. "Please, I will do anything."

Rumpelstiltskin turned away from the window, his fingers steepled together in front of him. "There is nothing you can do to save them." He paused a moment to watch the king's face fall. "But _she_ can." Though he tilted his head to indicate the window he had just left, his eyes remained on the king's face.

"How? What must she do?"

"I can help you find your solution – for a price."

"I understand." His daughter's face flashed into his mind. "But I want to be the one to pay the price, not her."

"Well, since all I can do for you is to give you a spell to call the one who can help her, I think that seems fair. Besides, you will be the one who has to perform the spell, so it is only fitting that you should pay. However," Rumpelstiltskin cautioned, "once the spell takes effect, I cannot guarantee the girl's safety."

"What is the price for your information?" The king wanted nothing more than to conclude this deal quickly and get this distasteful little man out of his castle.

"Oho, so quick to make a deal that could very well lead to your daughter's gruesome death! Are you so eager to get your sons back that you would throw the girl's life away?" Rumpelstiltskin chuckled, a sound full of malicious merriment. "For let me tell you this, o king. If your daughter dies, it will be because she has failed. And if she fails," Rumpelstiltskin said with an exaggerated shrug, "why, then, _all_ of your children would be lost to you." In a sing-songy tone, Rumpelstiltskin taunted, "Lost, lost, for all of time!"

The king sank down on his throne, pressing his hands to his face. "I don't want to lose her too! But at least if she died I could bury her and move on with my life. That's the worst part of this curse, for three years I've had only one hour each day with my sons, and that only until they must migrate for the year." The king made a strangled sound as he tried to choke back a sob. "If there is any hope, even the remotest chance, I _must_ explore it! I could no sooner turn my back on my sons than I could plunge a dagger into my daughter's heart. As long as that is not the price, I will pay it."

"The price, o king, is total separation. Never knowing how they fare, if they are cold or hungry, warm or joyful, or if they even still live. Uncertainty – that is the price you must pay."

The king's face went ashen. "My sons," he croaked, his eyes wide and filling with horrified tears. "Oh, my boys!"

"All of them," snapped Rumpelstiltskin triumphantly, "the girl as well!"

"No!" cried the king in despair. "All of them? For how long?"

"Until the curse is broken. Or forever, should the girl fail."

"You mean die," moaned the king. His heart, already broken, seemed to be shattering into dust.

"No, no, no. You weren't listening," admonished Rumpelstiltskin, shaking his finger at the king. "You see, there is a magical place in the woods yonder, a large copse of trees with three great nails at its center. Your daughter must be chained to those nails and left there alone, whilst you return to the stone alter you will pass along the path to the copse. Not to worry, o king, you will be within shouting distance of the girl. You will perform the spell I give you, following my exact instructions, and poof! The only one who can help her lift this curse shall appear! Then it will be up to her whether she lives or dies. And while her death will mean her failure, dying is not the only way to fail."

Sensing a frail thread of hope, the king leaned forward eagerly. "What do you mean?"

"She may survive her encounter with the one you will summon and learn what must be done to release her brothers, _but_ she may yet prove unable to meet the requirements, in which case she will still be alive, but still – a – failure."

The king sat for a moment with a haunted expression on his face, staring at nothing. Then he looked up at his strange guest. "Will I at least know if she survives this… encounter?"

"Hmm." Rumpelstiltskin pondered for a moment. "That much can be arranged," he said finally. "But after that, you will never again hear anything of your children unless the girl succeeds."

"Then I agree. I'll sign." The king stared expectantly at Rumpelstiltskin.

"Not so fast, o king. There's no point in making this deal if the girl refuses to comply. Why don't you send for her," Rumpelstiltskin suggested, an all-too-knowing gleam in his eye.

The king hesitated. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid. He was ashamed to have his daughter know that he had stooped this low, that he had gone to the one person he had sworn he would never seek out for help. But he knew, deep down, that he could never live with himself if he let his pride stand in the way.

"Well, if there's no deal to be made, I'll just be on my way, then," Rumpelstiltskin threatened gaily, turning to walk away.

"No! Wait!" But his impish guest kept moving toward the throne room's massive double doors as if he hadn't heard. The king ran, passing Rumpelstiltskin and tearing open one of the heavy doors. "Send for my daughter immediately," he cried to the soldiers, pages, and other attendants who had been made to wait in the corridor during the king's audience with Rumpelstiltskin. Then he stood in front of the door, letting it fall shut behind him as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I've sent for her, please don't go."

A long moment passed before Rumpelstiltskin finally replied, "Very well," shrugging as if it were of no consequence whether or not he made this deal. He leisurely strolled back to the window and looked out, where already a page was urgently trying to pull the princess to her feet.

* * *

><p>A lovely old jewelry box cradled in his free arm, Mr. Gold limped out of his office in the back of his pawn shop. He was leaning rather heavily on his cane; he knew he had over-exerted himself today. As he reached the counter and set the jewelry box down, a young woman of 24 maneuvered herself and a large, rather heavy box through the door to the back room. She was little on the heavy side herself, but still pretty. As his only employee, Mr. Gold insisted that she dress nicely, in black dress slacks and a button-down dress shirt. Today's shirt had three-quarter-length sleeves and was a dark shade of green that complimented her red hair nicely.<p>

"Ah, Paige," he said, "just set that box on the table in that corner there." He raised his hand, indicating the proper corner.

Paige placed the box on the table and took the lid off. Before she could remove the item list taped to the inside of the box lid, Mr. Gold interrupted her. "That's alright, Paige. Actually, I'd like to send you home a bit early today." He smiled. "Inventory seems like a lot of work for what little result it yields. And besides," he added, indicating his bad leg, "you've certainly done the lion's share of the work."

**Oh, are you sure?** Mr. Gold noted that Paige's hands were still a little uncertain at times, but she was actually getting quite good at sign language. The clock chimed for the half hour – half past three to be exact, which meant there was still an hour and a half left in her usual shift.

"Ah, don't worry," joked Mr. Gold, "there'll be plenty more inventory for tomorrow. You go ahead home."

**Thank you,** Paige signed, still seeming a bit uncertain. She stepped into Mr. Gold's office to collect her purse and jacket. While she was gone, Mr. Gold opened the cash register and took out a twenty dollar bill, taking care to note its removal in his ledger.

When Paige reappeared, he offered her the money and a folded slip of paper that he removed from the breast pocket of his suit. "Paige, on the way home, be a dove, won't you, and pick up these cleaning supplies? I noticed we're running low."

**Can't you just call the store and have these things delivered here? **Paige asked before taking the list and the money.

"Normally I would, but with you leaving early, I thought you might like an excuse to surprise your young man at work." Mr. Gold glanced at the clock. "You should have time to make it there before his shift is over." Without giving Paige a chance to respond, he said, "Have a good afternoon, then. I'll see you in the morning."

As soon as Paige had signed her goodbye and left the pawn shop, Mr. Gold opened the jewelry box. The smaller trays that lifted out on hinges were empty, but in the larger space at the bottom of the box sat a silver tiara with a sapphire suspended in a diamond-studded heart. Mr. Gold smiled as he marked it down on his inventory sheet.

* * *

><p>"This is nice," Mike said. "We should do this more often."<p>

**Well, we can't exactly expect Mr. Gold to let me leave early all the time,** replied Paige, her hands moving flawlessly through the signs.

"I know. But you don't work for him every day."

"Here you go," exclaimed the waitress, arriving with their pie. "One slice of apple a la mode," which she placed in front of Mike, "and one slice of blueberry with whipped cream." Her smile faltered a bit as Paige made the sign to thank her.

"She says 'Thank you'," Mike explained.

"Oh, you're welcome hon!" Her composure regained, the waitress made sure to direct that comment to Paige. Then she asked both of them, "Is there anything else I can get for you two? Refills on your hot chocolate maybe?"

Paige signed something to Mike.

"Ah, no refills, thanks, but could she get a glass of water, please?"

"Oh, that'll be no trouble at all. Back in a tick!" The waitress walked away, stopping for a moment to check on the only other customer in the diner at this hour before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Paige," Mike asked. "You seem kind of down today."

**Oh, I'm just tired, I guess," **she signed, faltering slightly. **Inventory seems to mean a lot of heavy lifting, and I guess I'm just not used to that much physical labor.**

The waitress had returned with Paige's water. Mike smiled and thanked her, reassuring her that there was really nothing else they needed just now. She smiled and walked away.

Mike turned back to Paige. "Are you sure you're alright?"

**Yeah, I mean, usually I'm just cleaning, you know? Tidying, dusting, sweeping and mopping. Today was just a lot more strenuous, that's all.**

"Well, maybe this pie will cheer you up. I know how much you love blueberries."

They each took a heaping forkful of pie.

**This is so good! **Paige exclaimed, putting down her fork to sign. Her mouth was still full of pie. **I haven't had blueberry pie this good in forever!**

"Yeah, they sure know how to make pie here, don't they," Mike replied.

Paige started to sign something else when a voice cut into their conversation.

"Well, if it isn't Michael Cochran," Ruby exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in a while!" Her face turned to Paige. "Oh, you have a girlfriend now? You were so shy and reserved in high school!" She spoke to Paige now, her voice slightly lowered in a mock confession. "You know, every girl in my freshman class had a crush on him. He was a senior, good looking, wasn't a jerk like the rest of the senior boys. But he was way too shy to talk to girls back then, even freshman girls!" Ruby laughed. "Ashley and I had a bet going on. Guess I've got to pay up, now, 'cause my bet was that he would never work up the guts to ask a girl out, and that he'd end up an old bachelor!" She glanced teasingly at Mike, who looked rather embarrassed, before telling Paige, "You sure are a lucky girl… I'm sorry, what's your name?"

Mike answered, "Oh, sorry, I should have introduced you. Ruby, this is Paige. Paige, Ruby."

"So nice to meet you, Paige!"

**Nice to meet you**, signed Paige.

Ruby looked confused, but just as Mike started translating, she gasped and said, "Oh! You're the girl who can't speak, right? We had to do a project about an old news story in my junior history class, and I got yours!" Suddenly she realized what she had just said. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have blurted it out like that. I didn't mean to be so rude."

**Oh, that's ok,** signed Paige, even though Ruby had upset her a bit. **I get that kind of thing all the time.**

Mike translated for Ruby, who could see that Paige was bothered.

"I still shouldn't have said it. I always get upset when people make stupid comments to my friend Ashley. See, she's pregnant, and her boyfriend just dropped her like a hot potato when he found out. She's only 19, and, you know, I really hate when people judge her. I'm really, really sorry."

**No,** Paige signed, smiling now. **Don't worry about it. Seriously. I know you didn't mean anything by it.**

At Mike's translation, Ruby smiled, still feeling like a complete jerk. "Well, if there's ever anything I can do for you, just let me know, ok?"

Paige nodded.

"Alright, well, I should go, my shift's about to start. See you guys later!" Ruby turned to walk into the kitchen. "Oh, and enjoy your pie," she called over her shoulder.

"She seems like a nice girl, but I don't really remember her that well," said Mike. "At least I remembered her name, though."

**Well, she did say you were a senior and she was a freshman.** Paige thought for a moment. **I'm not sure the math on that works out, though. I mean, I assume she's 19 like her friend Ashley, and you're 25… So you guys couldn't have been in high school at the same time, could you?**

Mike shrugged, a little embarrassed to admit this. "Actually, I got held back twice. When I was in second grade, my dad died, and my mom just kind of… stopped caring about anything for a while. My brother was in his first year of high school, and it was just too much for him to handle, trying to take care of both me and our mom. He didn't go to school, and he didn't like to leave Mom alone to walk me to school."

**I had no idea, I'm so sorry. **Paige took his hand in a reassuring gesture.

"It's ok, my mom pulled herself together, started seeing Dr. Hopper. She got better. Better than she had been, anyway. And, yeah, we both had to repeat that year, but we were just happy to have our mom back." He paused for a moment to collect himself. "Then when I was a senior the first time around, I got mono and missed a lot of school. I tried studying on my own, but I didn't score high enough on the tests, so I had to repeat the year. It was really awkward, I felt like some old man or something. I didn't really have any friends, they all graduated the year before."

**Well, you certainly made an impression on Ruby and this friend of hers, Ashley, **signed Paige, trying to lighten the mood.

Mike laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?"

* * *

><p>As they went up to the counter to pay their bill, Dr. Hopper rushed in. When he saw the sheriff, who was the only other patron at the diner at 4:30 on a weekday afternoon, he hurried over, calling, "Sheriff!"<p>

"What's up, Archie," Graham asked.

"The mayor needs to see you, right away. She tried calling your cell phone, but you weren't answering, and she's really upset right now…" Archie would have continued babbling if Graham hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Hold on, Archie, just calm down. I left my phone in the car while I came in for some pie. Now, what happened to upset the mayor?"

"It's Henry. He never showed up for our session this afternoon, and he didn't go home, either. No one knows where he's at."

"Alright, let me just pay up, and I'll be on my way. Where's Regina?"

"She's at her house. She thought that maybe he'd show up there eventually."

The sheriff walked up to the counter, reaching it just as Mike finished paying.

As the waitress took the sheriff's money, Mike said, "Hey, I hope you find him, Sheriff."

"Thanks," Graham answered, handing back his change as the tip. "But honestly, it's not even dinner time yet. You know how mothers get. Henry may have just forgotten the time."

"That's not like him at all," Archie asserted.

"Well, he hasn't been gone very long yet, so I wouldn't worry too much. Maybe they had an argument, and he's just trying to punish her. If he doesn't come home by dark, that's when we'll start to worry." Graham smiled reassuringly, but there was a hint of concern on his face as he left the diner.

**I hope he's right,** Paige signed, but Mike and Dr. Hopper were staring after the sheriff and didn't see it.

* * *

><p>"And once the contract is signed, I will give your father the details of the spell," Rumpelstiltskin finished, a cunning smile on his face.<p>

Without addressing herself to her father's guest, the princess said, "Sign it, Father. I will do what is necessary."

Rumpelstiltskin produced the contract with a delighted flourish, along with a quill dyed the exact same purplish hue of his shirt. He handed his quill to the king, but before he spread out the contract, a thought seemed to occur to him. "Ah, one tiny little detail, I must've overlooked it," he said, leering at the king's daughter. "When the girl is chained to the nails, she must be naked."

"You filthy little wretch," cried the king, throwing the quill at his guest. He started to rage at Rumpelstiltskin, making unkind implications as to Rumpelstiltskin's parentage.

"It is an essential part of the spell. If the girl is clothed, the spell can not be enacted," the little man sneered contemptuously.

"Father!" cried the girl, taking hold of the king's arm. "Calm yourself." She turned to Rumpelstiltskin, saying, "And you can guarantee that this is the only way to discover how I might save my brothers?"

"That's right, dearie,"

"Your word, Rumpelstiltskin," she insisted. "You thrive on your deals, and although everyone fears and despises you, all know that you keep your word, else no one would ever again sign your contracts."

Rumpelstiltskin gave her an obsequious smile, bowing slightly as he replied, "I give you my solemn word, princess. If any other way existed, your father would surely have found it by now."

"Then I will do it." At her father's distressed face, she said, "Father, I know how hard this is going to be for you, but you had already decided to pay his price. If you can sacrifice so much, how could I do any less and still be able to face you?"

"Very well," replied the king, cupping his precious daughter's face in one hand, looking into her eyes. Then he turned to Rumpelstiltskin, who had retrieved his quill while the princess was convincing her father. "I will sign," the king said tightly.

"So touching," remarked the little man dryly, grimacing. Then, with a grandiose flourish, he spread the contract across an ornate table along a wall of the throne room. "Here you go," he said, handing his quill back to the king, who stood for a moment, trembling, before bending down to sign. "Ah!" Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed delightedly, watching the ink glisten wetly as it flowed from the quill.

"There," said the king, handing the quill back to the vile little man, whose ecstatic expression sickened the king. "Now tell me what I have to do."

"Such touching hospitality you show, o king," Rumpelstiltskin said, a hint of hostility showing through. "Come aside, there is no need for the girl to hear the details." As they walked away, Eliza could hear Rumpelstiltskin telling her father, "Now remember, this spell is quite powerful. It will pull your only hope from a cruel imprisonment, so everything must be exact!"

While the king was receiving his instruction, the princess spoke to a page, who nodded several times as he listened, then darted swiftly away. It was several minutes before the page returned, handing the princess a small flask of the kind which always seems to contain some potent liqueur.

Tucking the flask into her belt pouch, the princess settled herself down on a well-crafted chair that sat beside the throne, still on the king's dais, but designed to hold its occupant lower than the king himself. As the minutes stretched on, the princess rearranged herself, more lounging than sitting. Although she tried, she felt anything but patient.

Finally, the king and his guest returned to where the princess hastily stood up and tried to arrange her skirts and hair so that it didn't look as though she had been unable to sit still. Her father's eyes were full of sorrow, and her heart went out to him, but she did not want to fling herself into his arms and cry with him until Rumpelstiltskin was gone.

The impish man stood expectantly, but as the moments continued to pass, he queried, "It _is_ the dinner hour, is it not? It would be quite impolite not to invite a guest to dine with you, especially when you specifically asked him to arrive practically at supper-time."

The king closed his eyes, frustrated and annoyed by the little man's constant jibes. He was spared answering, though, when his daughter spoke up.

"There will be no meal in this castle until tomorrow's supper. It has become our custom to eat a light meal before my brothers arrive for their last visit of the year, and then to fast for a day." She took the flask out of her belt pouch. "Instead, I would offer you this."

"Eliza!" cried the king. "That isn't our –"

"Yes, Father," she interrupted. "But he is a guest in our house, at _your_ invitation." She felt it was cruel to remind her father of that; he was already in enough pain. But it was too late to take back the words, and besides, she knew her father would regret it if he gave his undesirable guest any excuse to cast aspersions on their family. "Unless you would rather invite him to stay until tomorrow's supper?" She saw exactly what she had expected in her father's eyes. "I thought not. Besides, I'm sure Rumpelstiltskin has better things to do than to laze about our castle for a whole day." She held the flask out to the little man, holding it by one edge so he wouldn't have any excuse to touch her.

Taking the flask gingerly, a crafty smile came over Rumpelstiltskin's face. "Seems like such a small token. And how do I know it's not been poisoned?"

"I will not have you impugn my daughter's honor in my very household," cried the king.

Eliza put a hand on his arm, once again forestalling his anger. "Father," she said gently, before turning back to Rumpelstiltskin. "You should know better than anyone that appearances can be deceiving. That flask is enchanted, so that it will never weigh more than a full flask of that size ever should, and yet it carries a full barrel of our kingdom's celebrated blueberry brandy. To be more specific, that is the last cask of our very best year. It is a gift beyond value, to show our gratitude for your assistance. And I will prove that it is pure and untainted," she finished, hold out her hand.

Rumpelstiltskin reached out his free hand, cupping it underneath Eliza's waiting hand before returning the flask, caressing her hand tenderly before letting her take her hand back. His eyes remained on her face, watching her suppress the revulsion and strive to maintain her composure. To her credit, her face only twitched slightly, but Rumpelstiltskin's devious smile deepened as he witnessed her discomfort.

Eliza uncapped the flask and took a long swallow of the brandy, savoring not just its taste, but the potency that would, if she drank enough brandy, drown out her disgust with this whole situation. Instead of continuing to drink, however, she replaced the cap, comforting herself with the knowledge that Rumpelstiltskin would soon be gone, and she would never again have to feel the weight of his leering eyes.

"Here," she said, handing the flask back to the smirking little man. His smirk deepened into a mocking smile as she jerked her hand back quickly to prevent him from catching hold of it again. He opened the cap, ostentatiously licking the outside of the flask's neck. His eyes were locked onto Eliza's, who couldn't help but realize that her lips had just been touching that part of the flask.

"Yummy," he said, his voice full of insinuations. He giggled maniacally as she stepped away from him, repulsed. After taking his own long swig of the brandy, Rumpelstiltskin merrily announced, "Well, I must be on my way, then; duty calls. So many unfortunate souls, with no one else to turn to!" And with a flourish and a bow, Rumpelstiltskin set off to answer the plea of a king whose brave "son" would no longer be slaying any dragons…

* * *

><p>"I know you're in there, you trollop! You can't hide from me!" The woman's eyes were crazed, and her hair, half in rollers, was sticking out wildly in spots. She was only in her fifties, but looked older. "Michael," she shrieked. "Michael Eugene Cochran! You get that witch off my property before I disown you!" She listened for a moment, but when no response was made, she hammered even harder at the door. "Michael! If you're in there consorting with that Jezebel, I'll see you burn in Hell for it!"<p>

* * *

><p>Inside, Paige was in the upstairs hallway of her half of Michael's duplex, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Mike knelt in front of her, wiping away her tears.<p>

**What have I ever to done to deserve this?**

"Nothing. You haven't done anything, Paige. My mom just…hasn't been the same since Dad died. I wish I knew why she was so against you, but I swear to you, you've done nothing wrong."

**It just hurts so much to hear her screaming those things. **Even Paige's sobs were nearly silent, with no more sound than that of her ragged breathing. **But you should go. Take her home, calm her down. I'll be okay, I promise.**

"I can't leave you here overnight. That's part of the agreement for you to live here, that I'm only just through that wall at night."

**You can't just leave her out there all night.**

"And if I have to sit with her all night? Or even for a few days? What then? If the council ever found out, they might revoke their permission for you to live on your own, and I know how hard you worked for that. So did Mr. Gold. Is that how you would repay his kindness, by breaking the deal he made for you?" A sudden thought occurred to Mike. "That's it! When Mr. Gold addressed the council on your behalf, he said that if there was ever any reason I couldn't be here for you, he could come and stay in your guest room!"

**Oh, no, **signed Paige, but Mike, shifting so he could get his cell phone out of his pocket without falling over, didn't see it.

"I'll find out if he can stay with you tonight."

Paige tapped Mike's hand to get his attention before he could open his phone. **I don't think we should bother him with this. I mean, I know I'm beat from inventory, and with his bad leg, he's probably feeling even worse.**

"Don't be silly. After all he's done for you, how can you think he'd leave you alone at a time like this?" Mike stroked Paige's cheek gently. "Don't worry about a thing."

Mike stepped into the back bedroom to make the call. Paige could hear him explaining the situation to Mr. Gold. She wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing as silently as ever. She could still hear Mrs. Cochran ranting at her front door.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," came the dire scream. "If you've hurt that little boy, the mayor will see to it that you rot in jail until Satan comes to claim your filthy soul!" The sound faded a bit and the pounding stopped, as if Mrs. Cochran had turned away from the door. "Sheriff! If you're looking for the mayor's boy, he's in there! That witch is going to kill him for some evil spell!" Then the volume rose a bit as she turned back to pound on the door again. "You devil-spawn, release that boy, and release my son, as well! I won't let you have either of them, you Delilah! You wicked temptress!" Paige's mantle clock chimed nine o'clock, but even that sound wasn't enough to drown out Mrs. Cochran's mad accusations.

Paige jumped when Mike put a hand on her shoulder. "Mr. Gold is on his way. Listen, you're okay with this, right? I mean, it kind of feels like I'm abandoning you.

Paige looked up at Mike, her face tearstained. **You're so good to me,** she signed, smiling. **How could I not be okay with this? You always take care of me, but right now, you've got your mother to worry about. I'll be fine.**

Mike knelt down again and pulled Paige into a hug. "You deserve so much more than this."

When he had pulled back, Paige signed, **I wish you liked girls. That would be just about perfect.**

"I know. And listen, I'm really sorry I didn't correct Ruby this afternoon. When she called you my girlfriend? I was just – surprised, and kind of embarrassed at the things she was saying. I just kind of panicked."

**Don't apologize for that. Everyone makes that assumption. Even Mr. Gold. He called you my 'young man' today. I didn't correct him, either. **She paused for a moment, looking down. **You know, Mike, if you want me to be your cover… I mean, I know you don't want anyone to know until you're one hundred percent sure, so, until then, if you just want to keep letting people think that we're…a couple – I'd be okay with that.**

Mike hugged her again, so hard she wondered how she could still breathe. "Paige," he whispered in her ear, getting emotional, "you're the best friend a guy could have. I don't know how I got so lucky." He pulled back so he could look her in the eyes. "But I know you have feelings for me. Don't shake your head at me, I can tell. So promise me something: if it ever becomes too much for you, if it hurts too much to pretend? Just tell me. We'll figure something out, okay?"

Paige nodded, and Mike settled down on the floor next to her, holding her as she wept, and as his mother continued pounding on the door and screaming.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold strode up the steps onto the porch. Mrs. Cochran turned, exclaiming, "Oh, praise be, someone finally heard me. Please, Mr. Gold, you have got to stop her!"<p>

"Don't worry about a thing, Mrs. Cochran, I'll take care of it."

"Send my boy out, before that Jezebel twists his mind."

"I'll send him out straightaway, dear, not to worry." Mr. Gold smiled reassuringly.

"And I hope it's not too late for the mayor's little boy. I hope you find him." Mrs. Cochran seemed comforted by Mr. Gold's presence, as if she expected him to solve the problem.

"The mayor's – you mean Henry?" Mr. Gold was a bit taken aback; Mike hadn't taken the time to explain what exactly his mother believed of Paige this time. Everyone knew Mrs. Cochran hated Paige and believed her to be a witch, but this was the first time she had accused the mute young woman of kidnapping.

"That's right. She's going to kill him so she can summon the devil himself. Wants to consort with the leader of the demons now, I wouldn't doubt it." Mrs. Cochran folded her arms across her chest and glared up at the house.

"If I find young Henry in there, I'll send him home to his mother." With an effort, Mr. Gold managed to keep a straight face when he said that.

"Where he belongs! Now, get on with you, you've got a witch to face." She watched as Mr. Gold pulled his keys from his pocket and, selecting the correct one, unlocked the door. "Maybe I should come with you. I'll get my boy out, and you'll be able to focus on the witch and that poor child."

Mr. Gold put out his hand to stop her from coming closer to the door. "Don't you worry yourself about me. I can handle this. It's better if you stay here; I'll send Michael out before you know it."

* * *

><p>Hearing a key in the lock, Mike went down to meet Mr. Gold. "Thank you so much for coming, sir. Paige told me you were doing inventory today. I hope your leg isn't bothering you too much."<p>

"What, this old thing," joked Mr. Gold, indicating his leg. "Just like with anything else, some days are better than others." In a more serious tone, he continued, "I'll be fine. I'm glad to stay with Paige for you. I know that your mother behaving like this can't be easy for you. You go on, I'll take good care of Paige."

* * *

><p>Paige listened as Mike left, his mother crying in relief. She could hear Mr. Gold moving around in her kitchen. A small part of her wondered what he could be doing, but mostly she was too emotionally drained to really care. Then she heard him limping carefully up the steps.<p>

"Oh, you poor thing," he said when he saw her sitting in the hallway, a few last tears running down her face. With an obvious effort, he maneuvered himself down to sit by her, setting his cane and something else aside to pull out his handkerchief. "There, now. What a lot of nonsense," he said softly, wiping her tears. When he was done, he picked up the bowl of chocolate ice cream he had brought up the stairs. "I thought you might need this. I didn't know if you had any in your freezer, so I picked it up on my way here."

Looking at Mr. Gold almost distrustfully, Paige began mechanically spooning ice cream into her mouth. By the time she was finished, she did feel a little better.

**I should take this downstairs and wash it, **she signed, standing up. **And then I think I'll go to bed early.**

"Help me up, first, dear," said Mr. Gold, shifting his weight and reaching for his cane. Paige reluctantly set aside the empty bowl. Getting him back on his feet proved to be a difficult task, and ended with them standing face to face, practically in each other's arms. Paige stepped hurriedly away, looking uncomfortable as she snatched up the bowl and practically ran down the stairs.

As Paige washed the bowl and spoon, placing them in the drainer with the ice cream scoop, Mr. Gold stood in the hallway and smiled, a sly, cunning expression fit to send chills down the spine.

* * *

><p>It had taken over a year for the king to acquire everything he needed for the spell; Eliza was now 24. He had left everything at the stone alter to accompany his daughter to the copse. The great nails rose nearly seven feet into the air, with no way to be sure how deeply they were driven into the ground. A chain was attached to each nail, two ending with one manacle, and the other with a pair of manacles, of a slightly smaller size as they were meant for wrists. The nails formed an equilateral triangle. Eliza couldn't help but shudder as she saw how far apart her legs would be extended. She knew that just lying there in those chains would be painful.<p>

"Are you sure you can do this," her father asked, seeing her expression.

"I'm so afraid, Father," she cried, flinging herself into his arms and burying her face in his doublet for a moment. Then, mastering her emotions, she lifted her head and looked her father in the eye. "But I can't let my fear come before my brothers. You didn't."

"Your mother would be so proud of you," the king said, trying not to cry.

Eliza clung to her father for what might be the last time. "Alright, Father, let's do this quickly. I can't bear to drag it out."

* * *

><p>The king couldn't stop crying as he made his way back to the stone alter, carrying his daughter's garments with him. Fortunately, the path was clear and easy to follow, so he did not lose his way.<p>

"Eliza?" he called in a rough voice, testing Rumpelstiltskin's claim that he would be within shouting distance.

Her voice came back to him, distant but still readily understandable. "I hear you, Father!" After a brief pause, he heard her shout, "Do the spell, Father. I'm ready."

He knew she could never really be ready to face whatever horror was in store for her, but he admired her bravery. _She must get that from her mother¸ _he thought, never once considering his own actions brave.

Following Rumpelstiltskin's instructions to the letter, he mixed ingredients and strewed the results across the altar in the prescribed manner. When he spoke the words given him, they seemed to blur his head, like standing next to a large bell as it tolled. He began to fear that he would lose his hearing. But when he was finished, and a bright light flashed in the copse of trees, the king could still hear the gentle sounds that a forest makes when some intrusion silences the wary animals.

* * *

><p>A flash of blinding light forced Eliza to close her eyes. When it was over, she could hear the sound of footsteps, but upon opening her eyes, she found she couldn't see yet. She blinked rapidly, hoping it would help her eyes to adjust faster. When she could see again, she looked around fearfully.<p>

"You!" she exclaimed, spying Rumpelstiltskin standing nearby. Her voice was thick with shock and a hint of anger.

Rumpelstiltskin extended his calf in an overly exquisite mockery of a courtly bow. "Me!" he cried delightedly.

"Where is the one who can help me? What about your word, you foul creature?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Rumpelstiltskin shook an admonishing finger at her. "I _am_ the one that can help you. But I needed a way to ensure that the best part of me would be free at a certain… auspicious time. You see," he said, taking on an air of false sadness, "even this spell, powerful as it is, cannot entirely free me. My shadow is left languishing in a filthy, nasty cell." In more normal tones he continued. "But that matters not. As long as I am mostly free, it will translate in my favor." He smiled down at Eliza, who struggled in her chains. "But enough about me, dearie, let's talk about you."

"You have already made a mockery of my father, I will not let you do the same to me." Her face was a savage mask.

"Oh! Such a fierce little girl! And how do you intend to prevent me from doing anything? You're all chained up, princess!" he exclaimed, as if he were surprised to discover it.

She gave a sound that was half defiant scream, and half sob.

"Would you like me to tell you what you want to know?" Rumpelstiltskin's tone was self-congratulatory.

"Tell me."

"You have to say…please!"

Eliza gritted her teeth for a moment. "Please, tell me what must be done."

"If you want to save your brothers, princess, you have to gather nettles, and pound them until there's nothing left but fibers. These fibers must then be spun into yarn, which you must use to knit each of them a sweater. This is the only thing that will break the spell." Rumpelstiltskin laughed. "Oh, and, by the way, dearie, you have only six years to complete this task. And you must not make a sound until you're finished. Not a cry nor a laugh, and certainly not a single word."

Overwhelmed, Eliza gaped. Then a thought occurred to her. "What if I get sick? Catch a cold? That will be the end of my hope?"

"No, no, if you're sick, you can't control your coughing or sneezing, or clearing your throat. Those are considered…involuntary noises. It is intentional vocalizations that are forbidden. Includes things like, oh, screaming in pain, or laughing at a joke, that sort of thing. You must make no sound louder than that of a gentle wind whispering through the trees."

"So silence? That is the price I must pay?"

"Nonsense. That's no price, it's merely a part of releasing the spell." A huge creature with the head of a bull stepped into the copse. "The price is something far more cherished." Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Your maidenhead." At the sight of Eliza's horrified face, he laughed. He knelt next to her. "I ask for your purity, dearie. And you get to make a choice. The Minotaur," Rumpelstiltskin indicated the creature, "or me." He leaned in closer as if telling a secret. "By the way, there will be a child whomever you choose. That is, should you survive _his_ attentions. I'm told he gets very hungry after sating his…other needs, and here you are, all trussed up and looking so…" here Rumpelstiltskin leaned down and gave her arm a long, slow lick before continuing, "tasty."

Eliza shuddered at the thought of either one of them touching her.

"And of course, if you fail in your task, you'll belong to me for the rest of your life. I can't have you wandering around where your father might get word of you." Eliza began to weep quietly. "Now, I know this is a lot to take in, princess, but you need to put some thought into – "

"You," Eliza said softly, the weeping already subsiding.

"What's that?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

"I choose you."

"A bit louder, if you please."

Eliza spoke louder. "I choose you."

"Say my name, dearie." An impish grin wreathed his face as he savored her discomfort.

"I choose you, Rumpelstiltskin." Anger darkened Eliza's cheeks as she watched the Minotaur turn and lope away. She knew Rumpelstiltskin was only doing this because she had sworn she wouldn't let him mock her. "Now let's get it over with so I can get started. I have a lot of work to do."

"There's just a bit more to it than that, dearie."

"What else could you possibly want?"

Placing a forefinger to his chin, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Well, let's see." He pretended to think for a minute, tapping his chin. "Ah! For the duration of our agreement, and in perpetuity should you fail, you may express no ill of me. To anyone. Not in writing, not by gesture, not in any way at all." He smiled, almost triumphantly.

Eliza considered for a moment. "No."

"No?" Rumpelstiltskin's voice held a note of warning. There was still a smile on his face, but it took on a decidedly sinister aspect.

"You've already got the better end of the deal. You get your result immediately, but I must labor for six years with no guarantee of mine." Her tone was determined, but the sudden quickening of her breath gave away her apprehension. So far as she knew, no one had ever said no to any part of their bargain with Rumpelstiltskin. His smile had become a tight snarl. Eliza could tell that he was unaccustomed to being defied like this.

"Well, if you won't sign the contract," he began, advancing toward her in a predatory manner.

Eliza cut him off. "I propose that we add something to my end of the bargain."

Rumpelstiltskin stopped, nearly close enough to bend down and touch her. "What is it you want, dearie?"

"The same thing you want. _You_ can express no ill of _me_ to anyone, by any means, for the duration of our contract. And," she paused to recall Rumpelstiltskin's wording as exactly as she could. "And in perpetuity if I should succeed."

Rumpelstiltskin's eyebrow lifted. He looked at Eliza as if she done something mildly interesting, but possibly also quite annoying. "Hmm," he mused. After a long pause he spoke again. "Very well, then. You shall have your…addition." Pulling out the parchment, all it took was a mere glance from him and the contract was amended.

Moving to where her hands were chained, he knelt on one knee and placed the contract across his thigh, then cocked his head and made an amused noise before turning it upside so Eliza would be able to sign, craning her neck to look between her shackled arms.

"Now remember, princess, not a sound," Rumpelstiltskin reminded Eliza, grinning wickedly.

* * *

><p>Some time later, Eliza lay trying not to scream as she was violently molested. Bite marks covered her body, some bleeding slightly. Suddenly, Rumpelstiltskin raised his head and cackled gleefully. "The curse!" He shouted, still lying atop the princess' bound form.<p>

Sunset was rapidly approaching. A narrow, advancing finger of some indefinable darkness swept over them as he reached his peak, and when it touched them, they disappeared.

* * *

><p>The king had paced and waited, waited and paced, anxious to know what was happening. Right at the beginning, he thought he had heard a noise coming from the copse, almost a scream, but it was not repeated, and the phrase they had decided upon to mean that Eliza wanted her father to come rescue her never came. Finally, what seemed like days later, the foremost edge of the sun touched the horizon. Now, he could go back. As much as he wanted to see his daughter, to know that she was safe, he prayed the copse would be empty. That, Rumpelstiltskin had said, would be his sign.<p>

Reaching the edge of the copse, he stopped, suddenly terrified. Then he rushed in so fast that he tripped and fell heavily to the ground. Without bothering to rise, he twisted his neck to look at the nails. No one was there! Relief mingled with sadness as a dark shadow that the king had been too preoccupied to notice rolled over him.

* * *

><p>As Mr. Gold was locking up his pawnshop, his cell phone rang. The name that came up was Michael C. Mr. Gold smiled deviously as he answered. "Michael? Is everything alright?" He listed for a moment.<p>

"No, no, that's no problem at all."

Mike spoke on the other end of the line.

"I understand."

Again he listened.

"Don't worry about a thing. I just have one little errand to run before I head over there. I can be with her in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes."

Mike spoke again.

"Oh, you're quite welcome. I enjoy Paige's company, and spending time with her at home reminds me of old times."

There was another pause while Mr. Gold listened to Mike.

"Well, you just focus on your mother. Make sure she understands that young Henry returned home quite late last night, unharmed."

Mr. Gold listened one last time.

"I will. Good night, Michael." Mr. Gold ended the call and made his way to Granny's Bed and Breakfast, where he was not entirely surprised to find a stranger asking for a room.

"Emma," he repeated, "what a lovely name."

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold was getting out a towel and washcloth when he heard the clock in the square chime for the first time in memory. A sly smile slowly came across his face. He leaned into the tub and turned the shower on. It was a good night, a very good night, indeed.<p>

* * *

><p>Paige sat up against the head of her bed, wearing nothing but a sheet tucked under her armpits. She was staring at nothing, and though her eyes had filled with tears, none had yet fallen.<p>

Suddenly, she realized that the clock in town was chiming. Her first reaction was a sharp intake of breath. She jumped when the shower started running in the next room, then put a hand to her stomach.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

The flask Eliza gives Rumpelstiltskin is intended to be the same flask we see him drinking from when he goes to convince James to play the part of the dragon-slaying prince in "The Shepherd." It is also intended to be the flask he finishes up and tosses aside when he goes to meet Cinderella in "The Price of Gold" when she and Thomas have set the trap for him. **I do not know if ABC has any plans for tying the flask together with anything else. These intentions are mine and mine alone.**

**Also, I am uncertain as to ABC's exact timeline, but if we assume that Rumpelstiltskin goes off to kill the Fairy Godmother within a month after delivering James to the king, and we also assume that within about 2 months Cinderella and Thomas are married and expecting (let's face it, these things move pretty fast in fairy tales; look at Disney's Enchanted, where the prince, upon meeting Giselle, insists upon being married the very next morning), we can say that the span of time between Rumpelstiltskin receiving the flask and finishing it is a span of approximately 10-12 months. (For a whole keg of brandy? Not too shabby, since I can't see Rumpelstiltskin ever getting drunk – he would always want to be in complete control of his actions.) This, of course, is also assuming that Cinderella is about 7 months pregnant when she traps Rumpelstiltskin. Now, if you assume that Rumpelstiltskin has been imprisoned for about two months (since Cinderella is only days away from her delivery when The Curse is enacted), that puts our time frame for Eliza and her father at about 14 to 16 months between the king's deal and Eliza's.**

Finally, Rumpelstiltskin's line about "unfortunate souls" etc. is a deliberate slant quote from Ursula in Disney's The Little Mermaid. It really seemed to fit him, and of course, it fits the show, since we are getting a lot of Disney references already (hardly surprising, since, as I understand it, Disney owns ABC…)


	2. S1 Ch2 - The Lonely One

As before, I do not own any rights to ABC's show, characters, or plots.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"<em>On your first child's 16th birthday, your death will be decided by two whom you have muchly loved, and your children will no longer be safe. Forgive those who will condemn you early rather than late, and you will give your children hope, but beware, for it will place an excruciating burden upon your eldest. Save your magics, youngling, and waste them not, for only an unburdened heart can find the answer…<em>

* * *

><p>A 16-year-old Eliza stood next to her mother's bedside, smoothing the queen's sweat-soaked red hair with one hand, while her mother painfully squeezed Eliza's other hand. On the other side of the bed, the king's hand was being treated similarly. His face was worried; never had he seen his wife in so much pain. Her previous five births had not been this bad, although her labor with the twins had been excruciating.<p>

The doctor, a faun with a chocolaty-brown pelt and curling horns, turned to ask the chambermaid to add more hot water to the fast-cooling basin on the nearby table. He turned back to his patient, where, as he had suspected, the baby's feet had begun to appear. His usually jovial expression was absent as he concentrated on his task. He had only delivered three breech babies before, and not once had he been able to save both the mother and the child.

Without a word, he nodded to Eliza and the king, whom he had informed of his fears. Eliza's lips quivered; she only turned back to her mother when she had mastered her emotions.

"Almost there, Mother. Just a little longer," Eliza soothed, smiling gratefully at the maid who handed her a cool cloth. She wiped the sweat from her mother's face, and knew it was only a matter of time before she lost her composure. She felt she should leave, so as not to alarm her mother with her emotions, but she could not make herself go.

"If you must cry, Eliza, then cry," her mother said thickly. "Never hold it in, sweetling."

Eliza had prepared herself to lie, and tell her mother that nothing was wrong, but her mother hadn't called her that since she was ten. "Oh, Mother," she whispered, her tears beginning to fall.

"I always knew this day was coming," the queen said, straining. "The prophecy…I should have told you, but there never seemed to be a right time."

"Shh, Mother. All will be well," Eliza whispered.

But her mother turned instead to her father. "So it was to be the two of you all along," she said cryptically, her voice fading. The king and his daughter exchanged a puzzled glance. "But I forgave you long ago. There are no regrets, only love." Her head rolled almost lazily to look back at Eliza. "For both of you." She gave a sudden cry of agony, her face twisting. When her spasm subsided, her eyes did not open again.

"Both cannot be saved," announced the faun, who had developed a plan that he had hoped would do just that – a plan that still might have worked if the birthing cord was not twined round the infant's neck. "One must be chosen. Only one. Much pain and sorrow fill my heart that I must be imparting such terrible tidings. Failure is mine." His face was a mask of guilt and distress; the faun was known for his tendency toward self-recrimination.

"Nerean, old friend," said the king, reaching out his free hand to clasp the good doctor's shoulder, "I know you well. You have never done anything less than your best for our family, and we are forever grateful to you. Please do not blame yourself." He recalled his wife's words. "It seems this day has been foretold, though I knew nothing of this prophecy." He gazed sadly at his wife's slack face.

"The deciding, it must be done quickly if either shall be saved," Dr. Nerean said.

The king hesitated only a moment before love made his decision. "My wife," he said simply.

"But we can't, Father," Eliza cried. "It has to be the baby."

"Why would you say such a thing?" The king felt betrayed, not so much by his daughter's words as by the part of him that agreed. His wife meant everything to him!

"It's what she would want," said Eliza.

"You can't know that. You didn't know her like I did." Perhaps it was childish, but simply knowing that Eliza was right made the king fight it even harder.

"Father, what was her biggest passion? What was it that she loved most in this wide world?"

The king didn't answer.

"If we save her when we could have saved the baby, the best part of her will die. You know this is true, Father." She couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. "It will kill her spirit to know that her baby could have lived. We lose her either way!"

"I know," moaned the king, dropping to his knees by the bed and pressing his wife's limp hand to his forehead. "I know," he repeated, whispering this time.

"Good Doctor," Eliza wept, "save the baby."

"This thing shall be done as you say. My place is not such that I should say this, but this choice is for the best."

"You have every right to say it, Nerean," said the king softly. "You have known the queen almost as long as I have."

With a grateful look, the doctor bent to his task. "A boy this is, sire," he told the king.

"Paul," the grieving man whispered to the queen's unconscious form, "after your father."

Doctor Nerean took the baby over to the side table, washing him briskly with rags soaked in the hot water. Paul's cries were weak; the doctor had gotten him to breathe, but the boy's health was still at risk.

Eliza and her father had eyes only for the queen, praying she would regain consciousness in her last moments. But her breathing became more and more ragged, then finally stopped. The king sobbed, an unembarrassed outpouring of the raw grief of losing his soul mate. Eliza threw herself on the bed, her face buried in her mother's lifeless neck. "I'm so sorry," she wailed, over and over, but it was unlikely that anyone listening would ever realize that there were actual words mixed in with her distressed cries.

* * *

><p>"Miss Cygnus. Mr. Gold," the mayor greeted, shaking their hands. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please, have a seat."<p>

As they complied, Mr. Gold said, "I do hope there's no issue with young Michael being unable to fulfill his duties just recently."

"Oh, not at all," the mayor reassured him. "After all, this was the very reason you suggested such a back-up plan." Regina paused for a moment, then asked, "Speaking of which, do you have any idea when he'll be able to come back?"

Mr. Gold frowned and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I understand his mother is getting hysterical even when he tries to leave for work."

"That's a shame," said the mayor. "Well, I do hope it's not too much trouble for you. If this drags on, perhaps we should move Paige back into your house for the time being."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," said Mr. Gold. "Paige is a truly delightful young woman."

Paige sat there feeling invisible. She wished they wouldn't talk about her as if she wasn't even there, or worse, like she had the mind of a small child.

"And she worked so hard to convince the council that she should be allowed to move out," Mr. Gold continued. "I wouldn't want to take that away from her."

"Actually," Regina countered, "the council has become concerned. Some of the members are starting to rethink that decision."

"And why ever is that," asked Mr. Gold, leaning forward.

"The council has noticed that she's not very social. Her only significant interaction is with you and Mr. Cochran. The council fears that it's not healthy."

Mr. Gold licked his lips thoughtfully. "I'd like to point out, Mayor, that she was in the same position when she lived with me. Michael and I were the only two she interacted with, and as a matter of fact, she seldom even left the house. Now she gets into town at least five days out of the week, if only for work and groceries. And just the other day, she surprised Michael at work, and they went to Granny's for a slice of pie." Paige signed something to him. "And she tells me that they enjoyed it so much that they've decided to go out together more often."

"And that's good, but the council is concerned by her apparent lack of sociability."

"She's mute, madam mayor, not mentally challenged. Can you even conceive of the difficulty in making friends when she can't even communicate with most people in this town? How many of us here in Storybrooke know sign language? Aside from Paige herself, I count two."

Frowning, Regina said, "Just one moment," before opening the door to her office and asking someone outside to come in. Archie entered the room. "Dr. Hopper, do you know sign language?"

"Oh, um, no, actually, I don't," said Archie.

"This is a problem," Regina mused. "You see, the council wants Paige to start seeing Dr. Hopper. We never thought about sign language." She thought for a moment. "Mr. Gold, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to accompany Miss Cygnus to her therapy sessions. Perhaps you could close early a few nights a week."

"Oh, no," said Mr. Gold. "I can't do that. I've never had to close my shop early, and I don't intend to start now."

"Well you closed up shop for this meeting," Regina countered.

"I always close for a meal at this time of day, as you should recall, Mayor. But I cannot – I will not – just suddenly change my business hours at the whim of the council. I have my clients to think of. Reputation is vital in my line of work."

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to take a few blows to your reputation, Mr. Gold," the mayor retorted, a thread of anger in her voice.

Paige signed something, which Mr. Gold translated. "What about Michael?" Then he added, "The council made him one of her guardians, and he _is_ the one who taught her sign language."

After a moment, Regina replied. "That should be acceptable." She offered Mr. Gold a strained smile. "I apologize, Mr. Gold. I hadn't considered Mr. Cochran." She would have enjoyed seeing the pawnbroker taken down a peg, the more so for the smug smile on his face. Regina hated being made to feel foolish. "Very well," she said, turning to Archie. "Set up an appointment schedule with Miss Cygnus. The council will want to review it when you're done. Now, I have some important business to attend to, so I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me."

Mr. Gold's self-satisfied expression continued to haunt her well after they had left her office. She was trying to concentrate on her paperwork when she heard the sound of a chainsaw outside.

* * *

><p>At precisely 5 that evening, the bell jingled as Michael stepped into the pawn shop. "Good evening, Michael," Mr. Gold greeted him, moving out from behind the counter to meet him. "Paige is in the bathroom freshening up. She's very upset about the council's concerns. I never actually caught her crying, but I know she's had a very rough day." Noting Mike's expression, Mr. Gold continued, "And it looks like yours hasn't been any better. How's your mother?"<p>

Mike sighed. "Not good. Any time I leave the room, she freaks out. I missed work yesterday and today. And the only way I got out this evening was by telling her I had to go make sure the house was okay, which got her ranting about Paige again. She's afraid I'll find the house either burned down or, worse, turned into some kind of demon-serving brothel." Mike took a deep breath before continuing. "She's staying with my brother and his wife tonight, so unless something comes up, I'll be there for Paige tonight."

"If you do have to leave, don't hesitate to call me. Any time of the night, Michael. And if there's anything else I can do to help out, just let me know."

"Thanks, Mr. Gold. You don't know how much it means to hear that right now."

Just then, Paige came out of the back. As soon as she saw Mike, she ran to throw her arms around him. Mr. Gold reached out to put a comforting hand on Paige's shoulder, saying, "Take good care of her, young man."

* * *

><p>At first, it had seemed rather awkward to need an interpreter, but by the time they had gotten through the preliminaries, Archie was almost used to hearing Paige's words coming from Michael.<p>

"So Paige," Archie said, "I understand you've been made a ward of the city. How did that happen? Where are your parents?"

As Paige signed, Mike translated directly, meaning that he spoke her words exactly. "My mother died when I was 16. My father couldn't handle it, he just snapped. He got violent and irrational, and eventually he stopped. Stopped speaking, stopped caring, stopped feeding himself, he never showered or changed clothes or anything. The doctors all said he had lost his will to live."

"How did your mother die?" Archie knew from her file that Paige's mother had committed suicide, and that it was Paige who had found her mother's body.

Paige swallowed hard; she had never before discussed these things in much detail. Mike, who had been nervous about trying to verbalize her previous words while also paying attention to her next words, felt a strong compassion. He could see, even by just the movements of her hands, that she still in a lot of pain. His own doubts paled in comparison.

"She killed herself." Paige's hands moved mechanically, her gaze turned inward. She remembered every detail. "She – it was my 16th birthday. Also, it was supposed to have been her due date. She lost the baby a few months before, just like all the rest."

When Paige pause for a moment, Archie prompted, "How many miscarriages did your mother have?"

"Five miscarriages, but six babies. Her second miscarriage was twins." Mike was silent for a moment, waiting for Paige's hands to move again. "It all started when I was seven. That's when she lost the first one. She pulled me out of school because she was lonely. Or that's what she said, anyway. She started home-schooling me. She got pregnant again pretty quickly – her new due date was only a year and a half after she should have had the first one. But it was a difficult pregnancy; she was always at the doctors. Then a few weeks before she was due, they did another sonogram, and the babies were both dead. They never could figure out why. Complications, they called it. But every time she lost one, she got lonelier. I used to ask her when I could go back to real school. She'd get so mad. She told me that home school is real school, and that she couldn't stand being away from me. You know, Maine is one of the states where a home-schooled child can be a part of a regular schools' groups or activities, like sports. Or the orchestra. I always wanted to learn the violin, but she wouldn't even let me go in just for orchestra. I wanted to go to school so bad, even just for an hour or two a week. When I got a little older and still asked sometimes, she used her miscarriages as an excuse for wanting to keep me close – and as a guilt trip. Like I should permanently feel sorry for her and do everything she said just because she was in pain. As if my pain wasn't important."

"What do you mean?" Archie asked.

"I didn't have any friends. I never socialized, never went to parties. It was all over TV. Kids on TV shows were going to slumber parties, playing games together, being friends. And I never got to have that. I cried myself to sleep at night, because telling yourself secrets and pretending that it's someone else just isn't enough. It was never as much fun as it always looked like on TV. I hated it, and sometimes I hated her, too." Paige stopped to grab a tissue and wipe her tears.

"Wasn't there anything good about being home-schooled?" asked Archie.

Paige thought for a moment. "Well," Mike translated, "Mom was really smart. And she was good at putting together a curriculum that kept me motivated. The way she had it all worked out, I would have been able to take my high school exit exams just a few months after I turned 16."

"Would have?" Archie prompted.

"They probably told you already, but I'm the one who found my mother after she – I found her that day." Paige's tears were flowing freely, but although her hands were shaking, she barely hesitated in her signing. "I remember everything. She was depressed. She should have had a baby that day, so it was understandable. Dad went to work, since he knew I'd be home with her. But she was trying to be happy, for my sake, I assumed. She said – she said we should have a Sweet 16 party, just her and me. She made cauliflower soup for lunch because it was my favorite, and then she said she had a few presents, but she'd forgotten to wrap them. She sent me out for a few things from the grocery store. I shouldn't have left her, but she was trying, really trying, to be happy. Or at least, I though she was. She told me to get an ice cream cake. But instead of letting me pick out whichever one I wanted, she wrote down very specific instructions on what it had to look like, and how big it had to be. I should have known." Paige turned inward for a moment.

"What is it that you think you should have known," asked Archie.

Paige, startled out of her reverie, started to sign again. "I couldn't find anything remotely like what she described. If it were really for a birthday party for me, she would have let me pick it out myself. She just wanted to make sure I'd be out of the house for a while." Paige dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. "She had to have been planning it all along. When I came home – when the police went over the scene, and they did their autopsy on her, they said that while standing on the chair to hang herself, before she kicked the chair away, she cut her wrists."

"How could they know that," Archie inquired, genuinely perplexed.

"Because there was no blood on the rope, or on her neck, hair, and shoulders. But the beam she used, I guess it wasn't meant to be functional, because it broke. So when I came in, there was this broken beam, and an overturned chair, and a trail of blood. And when I followed it, I found her in the kitchen, with her head in the oven and the gas on. And my first thought was that Sylvia Plath killed herself the same way. We'd just done a poetry unit about a month before, and Plath was one of the poets we studied. And then I was grabbing her and pulling at her, and the rope was around her neck, and blood everywhere."

Archie was silent, giving Paige a moment to work through her emotions.

"I called 911, and that's when things start to get fuzzy. I don't remember what the operator said, just her voice. And then a whole lot voices, and I was pretty sure some of them were talking to me, but all I could focus on was that stupid cake. I had dropped the bags on the kitchen floor, and someone stepped on the cake. And I just stared at it, and I kept thinking, 'that doesn't look a thing like what she wanted.' I had dreams for a few months after that, where I would bring home a cake that looked exactly like she described, and in those dreams, she smiled, and put candles on it, so I could blow them out."

"Did you feel like it was your fault for getting the wrong cake?"

"At first, when I was still adjusting to the fact that my mother was dead, yes. It was stupid, I know, but I couldn't help it. Then I realized why I felt so guilty. It wasn't the cake. It was that I left her. I should have stayed, I knew I should have stayed. Or maybe tried harder to make her go with me. Something." Paige's hands stopped moving for a moment. "After that, I didn't think about finishing my coursework. Not until much later. And when I was ready, Mr. Gold helped me arrange everything."

Paige paused, introspective. Suddenly she jumped slightly. The things she had just been saying were sinking in. "Wow," Mike translated "I can't believe I just told you any of this. I've never told that story to anyone in that much detail, not even Mike."

"It sounds to me like you've been ready to talk about it. You were ready to unburden yourself. All you needed was the right opportunity." In truth, Archie was surprised himself. It often took at least a few sessions before most people were ready to talk about such painful things. He made a notation in her file. Her willingness to speak so candidly certainly put paid to the council's worries that she was antisocial. He was beginning to believe that it was as simple as Mr. Gold had said – a language barrier.

He looked up at the clock. "It looks like today's session is over." Taking in Paige's tear-stained face, he asked her, "Unless there's anything else you feel we should discuss today?"

"No, Dr. Hopper. But thank you," Mike translated.

"Then I'll see you next time. And if you need to talk before then, call me and we'll work something out."

Michael spoke for himself this time, saying, "Thank you, Doctor." Paige signed it as well. "From both of us."

"Thank _you_ for making this possible, Michael," Archie replied.

As Paige left the doctor's office, she saw the mayor's son, Henry, waiting just outside the door. She smiled distractedly at him, headed for the bathroom to wash her face yet again. This time, though, she genuinely felt better.

* * *

><p>"Mason! Get your hand out of that cookie jar right now!" Eliza had just entered the kitchen, 11-month-old Paul on her hip, to catch one of the twins trying to sneak cookies.<p>

"But I'm not Mason! I'm Marcel," the red-headed 8-year-old protested.

"Don't lie to me, Mason. Now put those cookies back and go tell your brothers that I said no snacks this close to dinner time." Eliza put Paul in a little playpen she had constructed herself, although her oldest brother, Weston, had carved the dowels. For a 10-year-old, he was quite exceptional at carving. Well, when he put his mind to it.

"How come you always know?" Mason demanded.

"Because I just do. Now, would you like to go out and pick some cauliflower for me?" asked Eliza, pulling out a large soup pot.

Without answering, Mason ran out of the room, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Hey everybody! Eliza's making soup! Let's get some cauliflower!"

Eliza smiled as she listened to the sounds of the rest of her brothers, even 3-year-old Bradley, dashing out to the garden to gather as much cauliflower as they could. Even at a month shy of her 17th birthday, Eliza never felt the slightest resentment at having to raise her six brothers on her own. She was a kind girl, who never minded taking care of others. And Weston was just old enough to watch the younger boys for a few hours while she took some time for herself, which wasn't very often. The hardest part, for all seven children, was being apart from their father. He visited several times a month, true, but it wasn't enough; they all missed him, even little Paul, who would spend hours searching their large manor house, calling "Fa? Fa?" which was all he could say of the word 'father.'

By the time her brothers had brought in the cauliflower, Eliza had everything ready to begin cooking. "Weston, would you cut the cauliflower for me? And Mason and Marcel, I need you to keep an eye on Paul. Yes, yes, you can take him out of the playpen, but if you take him into another room, make sure you take Bradley with you. And Travis," she said to the 6-year-old, "would you mind helping me fetch some things from the cold cellar?"

"Yeah," Travis nodded, "I can carry anything. I'm really strong!"

"That's why I asked you."

The flattery was too much for Travis, who replied, "The bigger boys are stronger. 'Specially Weston."

"That's true," said Eliza, "but you're too young to cut vegetables, and I need the twins to watch your two little brothers. So you see? Everyone can be helpful!"

"Helpful," Travis repeated, smiling. "I like helpful." As they walked down the staircase, he asked, "But what about Bradley and Paul? They can't be helpful."

"Bradley helped gather cauliflower, didn't he?"

"He kept putting in weeds!"

"That's how we learn, Travis," Eliza explained. "We make mistakes, and sometimes we feel silly when we do, but we learn from them. Learning isn't just about reading and writing and arithmetic. It's also about learning what's a weed and what's not. Or how to tell if vegetables are ripe. You can also learn a skill, like Weston's carvings."

"I wish I had a carving."

"Well maybe if you ask nicely, Weston will make you something."

They reached the cold cellar, tucked deep under the house, in a small cave with a natural spring in it. The cave had no outlets other than the long staircase to the hidden manor's kitchen. A wooden platform had been built above the surface of the spring, with a large trapdoor in the middle. When opened, the trapdoor revealed a metal chest with several compartments, suspended from the wooden platform so that it was almost entirely submerged in the icy waters of the spring.

Eliza began to fill the baskets she had brought. Some chilled bread dough and a blueberry pie from yesterday's baking went into Travis's smaller basket, while she took a large, raw steak from Father's visit the day before yesterday. Some vegetables that had been picked last week also went into her basket. The boys didn't know it yet, but Father was coming for dinner, and Eliza wanted everything to be perfect, so she also pulled out a bottle of blueberry wine. "Travis, can you fill that little jug we brought with some spring water? That will do nicely to water down the wine."

"Okay, 'Liza," he said, scampering off the platform to the water's edge.

As they headed back up the long flight of stairs, Eliza realized that she still had to find time to exchange her shirt-and-breeches for a dress before her father arrived.

* * *

><p>In Paige's living room, she held Mike while he wept. His sobs had subsided somewhat. Paige was crying too, though she would never dream of telling Mike that her tears were partly selfish. He was distraught over his mother's deteriorating condition; her own discomfort was nothing to bother Mike with at a time like this.<p>

It wasn't the therapy session that had left her crying; she felt oddly at peace with that. Maybe Dr. Hopper was right and she just needed to unburden herself. But she knew she could never unburden herself about the situation that upset her the most. No one could ever know how much she feared and detested Mr. Gold. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't tell anyone the truth. She felt guilty for her selfish tears, but could see no way to change it.

There was no real need for words; they both knew why Mike was crying, and he had been sobbing too hard to speak coherently anyway. Paige rocked slightly, and just held him tight. She wished he was really her boyfriend; she was still scared she wouldn't be able to handle the pretending without getting her heart badly broken.

* * *

><p>A soft sound woke Paige up. Yawning, she stretched – and winced. She felt almost as if she'd been beaten all over. She blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong. Suddenly, she realized that she was propped up against the arm of the couch. And Mike was stretched out along the rest of the couch, his head on her stomach. She swallowed hard. She knew nothing had happened between them; Mike had cried himself to sleep in her arms. She must have fallen asleep herself while trying to decide if she should risk waking him. Even knowing nothing had happened, her heart beat a little faster as she stared at his sleeping face.<p>

The sound that had woken Paige was still going on – her alarm clock! As gently as she could, she shifted Mike around until she could get up. He didn't wake. She ran upstairs; the closer she got, the louder the sound was. When she hit the button, she realized that her clock had been going off for nearly an hour! She was going to be late! She rushed around, forgoing her shower in the interest of speed, but she did take the time to make bacon, English muffins, and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Knowing Mike's preference, she put extra cheese in the eggs and left a heaping plate of food on her coffee table. It was really quite amazing that Mike slept through her frantic burst of activity. She locked the door and left; Mike was her landlord as well as her best friend, she knew she could trust him to lock it again when he let himself out.

* * *

><p>"Eliza, I don't know how you do it," exclaimed the king. "Everything's delicious, my dear." He looked deeply into his daughter's smiling eyes. "Are you sure all this isn't too much for you? Keeping a household, raising six obstreperous boys," he said, winking mischievously at his sons, "not to mention cooking for them!"<p>

"What's ub-strep-ous?" Travis asked.

"Means you're always getting into trouble," the king said, laughing.

"Nope," replied Travis. "Everybody can be helpful."

The king laughed even harder. "Well, that's true son, but just because we _can_ be helpful doesn't mean we always _are._"

"Alright, boys," Eliza said, "let's all help clear the table. Don't let Paul or Bradley carry anything sharp, though." She turned to her father. "I have a blueberry pie in the kitchen, do you want to wait, or should I get it now?"

"Your steak-and-gravy with vegetables was so good I couldn't stop! Not to mention that soup. I haven't got any room for pie right now."

"We can save that for later, then, Father." Eliza turned to clear the serving dishes off the table.

"Wait, Eliza," said the king, grabbing her arm. "Boys, I need you to take care of all the clean-up tonight. There's something I need to discuss with your sister." He led her out of the formal dining room, down the hall to a small sitting room. Ordinarily, they didn't use this room much even when their father wasn't visiting, as it was barely big enough for six rambunctious boys. It was a good place to be alone, or to have a private conversation.

"Aww," moaned the twins in unison as they watched their father disappear, "not fair!"

Weston nudged the nearest twin with his elbow. "Come on, guys, if Father needs to talk to Eliza alone, it must be important. I'm sure he'll have plenty of time for us after."

"Well," groused Mason, "I guess since Father asked us to."

"Helpful!" cried Travis. "Just help!"

If Weston hadn't intervened, Mason and Marcel would both have tackled Travis. But soon enough, Weston had restored order, placing both Bradley and Paul in the playpen with a few toys so they wouldn't go chasing after their father, while the other four boys washed the dishes and the table and put the remaining bread into the breadbox.

* * *

><p>"Eliza, this isn't going to be easy for you to hear." The king, sitting in a chair perpendicular to Eliza's own, held both of her hands in his own. "You're going to have to come back to the castle to live with me."<p>

"But you read Mother's letter! You know it's not safe," Eliza argued. The letter she was referring to had been found among her mother's things, and it explained not only the prophecy, but also how to find this secret manor house where her beloved children could live in safety.

"I know you're concerned about your mother's prophecy, but what if something should happen to me? No one else in the castle knows how to find you children, and even if they did, you still haven't had any real experience with ruling. I know you did well in all the little lessons your mother and I gave you when you were young, but being well-schooled and being experienced are two vastly different things. If you come back to live at the palace, I can give you that experience. I will be right there so you can't go too far wrong, but unless you do, the decisions would be yours." He paused for a moment. "And I don't know how much longer I can stand being apart from all of my children. Visits like this just don't seem like enough."

"I know what you mean, Father," Eliza commiserated, her heart melting just a bit.

"When I come again, I can bring a governess to care for them. You would stay here with her for a few months or so, to show her around and let the boys grow familiar with her. Then you'd come back to the castle with me, and she would take over your brothers' care."

Eliza wanted to fight her father on this, but she knew he was right, so she simply strove to compromise. "I will agree, Father, but only on one condition." The king chuckled ruefully; Eliza was known for her "conditions." She always wanted to make sure she was getting a fair deal, bless her heart. "I want to be able to spend a week or two out here at the manor at least once every three or four months. Without the governess." She grew fierce, as if she felt the need to defend her demands. "I only think that's fair, since I've spent the last year raising them by myself!"

"Oh, my beautiful girl! How could I ever say no to you when you're so determined?" The king smiled. He had actually been expecting worse. Eliza's temper didn't rise very often, but when it did, it was legendary. "When I return tomorrow, I will bring her with me."

Eliza's smile was rueful. "You've already got her all picked out and everything. Did I ever have the choice to say no?"

"I don't know what I would have done if you did. I'm glad you see the importance of this," the king said.

"Father, I may be a spoiled princess, but I am no fool. I can see what is right and what is not, and, unfortunately," she said, smiling to show she didn't really mean it, "you and Mother taught me to _do_ what's right regardless of what I personally want. I will rule this kingdom one day, Father. And I will rule it well."

"I know," her father smiled, squeezing her hands.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold had not been pleased when Paige came in late, but he told her he wasn't going to dock her pay or make her stay late to make it up. Just this once, he was willing to overlook it, but if it happened again, he assured her that he would take stricter measures. They had finished inventory on Wednesday, but Mr. Gold made sure that today was even more exhausting than both inventory days put together. Paige felt worn out as she made her way home, and some of her muscles were protesting the extra exercise they had been given. All she wanted to do was shower and watch some mindless TV. And maybe finish up that chocolate ice cream.<p>

* * *

><p>After he locked up his shop, Mr. Gold pulled out his cell phone to call Mike. When the young man answered, Mr. Gold asked if he was with Paige, which he was. "Can you ask her a favor for me, Michael? I meant to mention it before she left, but it completely slipped my mind."<p>

Mr. Gold listened a moment.

"Yes, since she's off tomorrow, ask her if she would be willing to make some of that cauliflower soup she does, and I can walk to her place for lunch tomorrow. It'll be nice to do something different for lunch, and besides, I haven't had her soup since before she moved out. I've kind of been craving it lately."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, while Mike explained to Paige, and then a long silence while Paige was presumably signing. Then Mr. Gold heard Mike speak to her again, followed by another pause.

Mike told Mr. Gold that it would be fine, and that Mike was actually working tomorrow to help make up for the days he had missed.

"Ah, excellent, so she'll need some company anyway. Tell her not to worry about dessert, I'll bring something with me." A wicked smile on his face, he listened again. "Right, she'll know what time to expect me. Thank you, Michael. And by the way, I'm so glad that your mother seems to be doing better." He listened. "You're quite welcome. Well, have a good night, then."

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold went out quite early the next morning, intending to be at the grocery store when it opened. It wasn't quite light outside yet, and as he passed near the hospital, he saw a brawny figure in a hospital gown disappear into the bushes. His mouth twisted in a knowing smile as he walked on by. He found himself wondering if Paige would like German chocolate cake.<p>

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

The first chapter took place during the Pilot episode, while this one spans "The Thing You Love Most" and "Snow Falls."

Now obviously, Mr. Gold did not need a reason to taunt Regina at the end of the episode "The Thing You Love Most," but I did give him something here in the scene where Regina tells him, and Paige, that the council wants her in therapy because she has no friends. And I'd like to point out that Mr. Gold is not necessarily that protective of Paige, but as per the deal between Eliza and Rumpelstiltskin, neither can speak (figuratively in Paige's case) any ill of the other. So by default, Mr. Gold has to defend Paige. And really, he doesn't care that much if she moves back in or not, because her moving out didn't really change their situation.

Also, for those who are wondering, we will see the faun, Dr. Nerean, in Storybrooke. I had intended for his counterpart to appear in this chapter, as well as another new character (both in fairy-tale land and in Storybrooke) but some of the characters hijacked my keyboard and took the story off on a tangent. Sadly, that meant no Rumpelstiltskin in this chapter! Well, hopefully next time we'll be able to get back on track!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the story "The Six Swans," the king hid his seven children in a lonely castle. Even he did not know where it was, and could only find it by means of a magic ball of yarn. In the Grimm tale, it unwinds to lead him there, while in the movie "The Wild Swans" that I mention in my Disclaimer/Theory page, the ball of yarn simply bounces off into the woods and he follows it. I have changed their lonely castle into an equally lonely manor house.

When reviewing the tape to see what happened to John Doe, Emma says that he walked out about four hours ago. If we assume she and Henry were meeting Mary Margaret at around 9am for breakfast, and then add another half hour to an hour for them to first arrive at the hospital and then finally get down to the business of finding the right tape, we can assume that John Doe left the hospital around 5:30 or 6am. So as Mr. Gold heads to the store (which, in my story, opens at 6am), he could easily have seen John Doe's retreating form.


	3. S1 Ch3 - A Mother's Love

As usual, I do not own the show or ABC's characters, only the ones I have created...

Also, sorry this took so long! This chapter deals with Mike's fairy tale past, and he was extremely unhelpful... It wasn't until I was working on a scene between Paige and Mr. Gold that something Paige said gave me a sudden, very helpful, insight! (In case you are wondering, that scene is actually the very last one in this chapter.)

And if you go to my profile page, I have posted some links. One is to an image of Eliza's tiara (the one we saw Mr. Gold marking down on his inventory sheet in Chapter One), and the other is to a document that gives the names of all the original characters we've met thus far, and how their Storybrooke names relate to their fairy-tale selves.

R & R, and Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Are you so certain of yourself, <em>King<em> Tristan?" asked the dowager Queen Garnet, angry at being thwarted. She was only in her early fifties, but looked older. Grief had taken its toll on her, as had her constant struggle to get her older son to act like a proper king just as his father had been.

""Now, Mother, don't get yourself all worked up," Tristan said, putting his hands on her shoulders in a soothing gesture.

Shrugging off his hands, Queen Garnet glared. "Even at twenty-seven, you still act more like a headstrong child than the powerful king you should be! Your father would be ashamed!"

Stung, Tristan spoke more sharply than he intended. "No, he wouldn't! Father understood that everyone has different strengths, and the only thing we can do is play to those strengths where we can, and do our best with everything else!" Without moderating his tone, he continued, "Father understood that I could never be like him. That's why Andrew is in charge of our kingdom's armies, and not me." He suddenly realized that he was all but shouting at his mother. "I'm sorry, Mother," he sighed, his anger already spent. He turned and gazed out the nearby window.

"There you go again. You are far too polite, Tristan. If something upsets you, be a man and let people know you are angry. And never apologize afterward, it makes you look weak!"

"Why don't you just say it, Mother?" asked Tristan calmly, turning back to face her. Just that brief glimpse of his beloved landscape was enough to help Tristan regain his usual serenity. "You think Andrew would make a better king than I ever could. You believe this so strongly that, during those four years between Father's death and my eighteenth birthday, you did everything in your power to try to convince Father's advisors that I was unfit to rule. But Father picked them well. They saw the same promise in me that he did. They knew that just because I can't rule the way Father did doesn't mean that I can't be a good king."

"Well, well. It only took you thirteen years to discover it," his mother taunted. "Pathetic, as usual."

"You know, Mother, being a quiet and introverted person can lend itself surprisingly well to intrigue. I discovered what you were up to less than half an hour after your first appeal to the advisors. I only kept it to myself because I had hoped that you would come to realize that I am every bit as capable of ruling as Father was." Forestalling her protest, Tristan continued quickly. "But now you want to bring in Rumpelstiltskin to tell my future? To tell me what's coming so that I can prepare for it? No, Mother, I think what you really want is to know whether or not my brother should be preparing to one day take the throne, or perhaps put his own son on it after me. Well, let me tell you this, Mother. After seven long years of trying, my wife is finally pregnant. And when the baby is born, if it is a boy, my succession is assured, and if it's a girl, I will have that old law torn up and make it legal for a princess to inherit the throne. Other kingdoms have done it, and so will I if necessary." His tone remained calm throughout.

"Changing laws, changing traditions. What's next, ceding our land to neighboring kingdoms, one tiny piece at a time, just to be polite? You are a fool, and no son of mine!" She turned to stalk out of the room.

"Mother," warned Tristan, "don't do anything rash. I will banish you if you go too far. And just so we're clear, I will not have anyone in this household give Rumpelstiltskin any excuse to set foot on my soil. I cannot stop him if he wishes to enter my kingdom, but anyone who invites him to do so will be punished."

"Why not threaten to have my head cut off and be done with it? Oh, weakness. Of course." She sneered at her eldest child.

"So first you would berate me for wanting to change one law, and now that I try to keep another, you would call me weak for it? The law that prevents a king from ordering the death of anyone with royal blood is a very old one, Mother. And unlike the one requiring a _male_ heir, this one actually makes sense." Tristan sighed. "I should banish you now and get it over with, but so far all you have done is argue with me. Hardly an offense worthy of banishment."

"There are other ways to ensure that someone is…disposed of. Not that you could ever gather up enough courage and ambition to utilize them."

"No, Mother, you're right. I could never be like you."

Suddenly wary, his mother swept out of the room. So he was bright enough to realize that she was capable of having him killed? That was a surprise. He wasn't suited for the throne at all; one of his advisors must have warned him of the danger. Or perhaps that upstart wife of his. Tristan was too peaceful, too nice. He always assumed the best of others. And as for summoning Rumpelstiltskin, well, it was hardly treason if she visited her other son at one of his posts along the border and made sure that the little imp, once summoned, never crossed over into her son's kingdom.

* * *

><p>"Prince Andrew!" The guard-captain rushed over to where Andrew was inspecting the main watchtower.<p>

"Yes, Captain?" queried the prince, his tone casual despite the formality inherent in addressing a man by his title rather than his name. The prince always felt comfortable around his soldiers, which made them love him all the more.

"A messenger has just arrived, sire," the man said, bowing briefly. "Your mother sent him to inform you that she wishes to inspect one of the border posts with you. She's currently headed for the next post on your itinerary."

With barely a moment's thought, Andrew replied, "Send a fresh messenger out to meet her immediately. The message will be that she is to divert course to this outpost. I will extend my stay here and wait for her. And once he has delivered his first message, he should proceed immediately to the next post and inform them of the change in plans."

"At your command, sire!" The guard-captain's face had lit up in a huge, proud smile at Andrew's words.

"Oh, and Captain," added the prince before the other man could walk away, "Speak to my steward, I believe there is a cask of blueberry wine in one of my wagons. Have him broach it for the men this evening. The messenger who just arrived should be served first, I think. And of course, I know you'll find a way to work things out so that the watch can be kept properly, but that every man can still celebrate." Andrew knew the importance of rewarding the men for their efforts.

As the man walked away, Andrew's thoughts turned to his mother. She had never been any closer to the border than his command post, which was where she usually met him. Knowing his mother, she was up to something. But what in the Haunted Hollow could it be? Andrew felt his stomach sinking; this wasn't likely to end well.

* * *

><p>"I'd like to thank you for helping me out this week," Mike said to the 18-year-old in front of him.<p>

"Dude, it's no problem. Sometimes the shi- I mean, stuff, hits the fan."

"Still, I appreciate you coming in for me." Mike handed the boy a five-dollar gift card for the store. "I know this isn't much, but I just wanted you to know what it meant to me."

"Aw, man, you don't have to give me this. You're already the coolest department manager in the store," the young man replied, trying to hand the card back. "Seriously, I know you'd do the same for me."

"Please take it," said Mike. "Going through all this with my mother has been really difficult, and I kind of get the feeling that we're not out of the woods yet. You were there for me, and I want you to know that I'm grateful."

Embarrassed, the boy stuck the card in his back pocket, saying, "Well, thanks. It was really nothing, you know."

Mike smiled and clapped the boy's shoulder. "It meant a lot to me, though. And by the way, we're almost done with that pallet already. Great job!"

As he walked into the back room of the store to load up another cart, Mike smiled ruefully. The other three people who had helped cover shifts while he was out had reacted in pretty much the same way. It was a shame that society had gotten to a point where people felt embarrassed to be rewarded for their efforts, especially when that reward was well-earned.

* * *

><p>Paige was drying off after a very late shower when her bathroom door suddenly opened. Clutching her towel so that it covered her, Paige realized that it was Mr. Gold. He spared a glance at her and then began to rummage through her bathroom closet.<p>

"Don't you have a first-aid kit," he grumbled.

Paige had never seen him like this before. After wrapping the extra-large towel under her armpits and tucking the ends in, she reached around him to grab the plastic box she kept her first aid kit in, then steered him over and sat him down on the side of the tub. She set the box down on the closed toilet lid. **What happened? Where are you hurt?**

Without a word, Mr. Gold pulled aside his hair, revealing a nasty cut by his left temple.

Paige drew in a sharp breath when she saw it. She didn't waste any time asking more questions; she pulled out some cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide. Soaking one of the cotton balls with the peroxide, she gently dabbed the cut.

"Ahh," Mr. Gold hissed, instinctively pulling away a little bit.

But Paige was prepared for that, and put her free hand on the other side of his head to hold it still. She repeated the process several times, until the peroxide barely fizzed up in the cut. While she was doing this, Mr. Gold explained how he had come across Ashley breaking into his shop, and that she had pepper-sprayed him. He said he had come to Paige's house because it was closer than his own, but only after he had used the bathroom sink in his pawn shop to flush the last of the pepper spray from his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he was out, but by the time he had come to, the pepper spray seemed to have nearly run its course.

When she finished with the peroxide, Paige pulled her hands back to sign, **Do you want ointment and a band-aid, or some of that liquid bandage?**

"Liquid bandage," he replied tersely. He didn't want to be seen in public with a band-aid across his face.

As Paige leaned down again, her towel started to come loose, so she put down the bottle to fix it. When she bent again, she noticed that Mr. Gold's eyes were now locked on her cleavage. Her lower lip trembled slightly as her heart sped up. She brushed the liquid over his cut and stepped quickly away. One hand went to the spot where her towel was tucked, which was a good thing since Mr. Gold, still holding his hair aside with one hand while the liquid dried, grabbed the end of her towel. When Paige met his eyes, they were filled with heat, just as she had expected.

**It looks like you're feeling better**, she signed, with some difficulty since she was still trying to hold onto her towel. Mr. Gold didn't try to pull the towel off, but he also wasn't letting go of it. **But you might have a concussion, so you should be alert for the signs. Do you know what they are?** She was trying to ignore his obvious intentions.

"You're not going to need that towel, Paige," he said, smirking.

**You should stay awake for at least four hours, **Paige signed. She tried to tug the towel away from Mr. Gold. **Do you feel dizzy?**

"No," he replied with a mischievous smile. "Do you?"

**You need to do something that will help you stay awake,** Paige repeated, **not something that will make you want to sleep.**

"Well, maybe a nice, cool shower will do the trick." There was a darkness in his eyes, that primal look a man gets when he knows what's happening next. "Go ahead, turn on the shower, dear. And not too warm, of course, we wouldn't either of us want to get light-headed."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Mr. Gold took Paige to breakfast at Granny's.<p>

**So what are you going to do about Ashley,** Paige signed, wondering if it was Ruby's friend that they were talking about.

Frowning, Mr. Gold replied, "Well, I don't really want to involve the police, so I was thinking of speaking with Emma."

**Who?**

"She's new in town. You know the mayor's son, Henry?" Paige nodded. "It seems she's his birth mother." He smiled knowingly to himself.

**Oh, **Paige signed. **Is she the one who was in the paper this week? For hitting the sign?**

"Actually, yes, that's her. Well, turns out she's a bail-bondsperson."

**I don't really know what that means,** Paige replied.

"When someone gets arrested, if they want to post bail but can't come up with the money right away, they can contract with someone like Emma, who will put up a portion of the money. Part of the agreement is that Emma is then responsible for making sure that the person doesn't cut and run. If they do, Emma has to essentially hunt them down and bring them back."

**So finding people is basically her thing, then.**

"Exactly," said Mr. Gold.

* * *

><p>The queen mother imperiously ignored the guardsmen manning the wall as she swept past them in her elegant burgundy gown. Andrew shook his head as he watched her approach. Such attire was decidedly inappropriate up here on the wall, but of course his mother had not bothered to bring along anything practical. No matter how many times he explained it to her, she insisted on dressing as if she were attending court.<p>

Andrew put a smile on his face as his mother swished up next to him. Her skirts were so wide that it was unlikely that another person could pass beside her without stepping on them. For a moment they stood without talking, looking out over their neighboring kingdom. There hadn't been a raid in several weeks; it had been much longer since the last actual attack. Why any faction would waste time on a full-scale attack of a nearby kingdom when there was so much internal warfare was beyond Andrew – he would certainly never misuse his resources that way. But he kept his men prepared; this border would provide no easy conquest.

As expected, his mother's impatience soon got the better of her. "I have much to discuss with you, my son. Why did you not dine with me last night?"

"I'm sure you came here for something important, Mother," Andrew replied, "but the scouts found tracks on our side of the border. I was gone most of the night following them."

"Tracks? Your mother comes out here to a warfront just to have a few words with you, and you waste your night on _tracks_?"

"Now, Mother, you should understand that your being here made it even more important. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you, especially out here in my own territory, so to speak."

Mollified, his mother threaded her arm through his. "We must speak in private, Andrew. Can someone else take over here?"

"Of course, Mother." Andrew leaned closer so he could speak without his men hearing. "And compliment them, Mother." She frowned at him. "For me, Mother?"

As Andrew summoned a guardsman with a gesture, the stately dowager smiled approvingly at the guards, but spoke to the prince. "This is a fine outpost, a credit to our kingdom, my son." Then she allowed herself to be led away, holding up her skirts so that Andrew would not trip on them. She spared not a glance at the proudly grinning men who were nodding silent congratulations at each other.

* * *

><p>"That brother of yours, oh, how he vexes me," snapped the queen mother as soon as she and her son were behind closed doors. "And now that snotty little Hind of his is pregnant. After all these years, those herbs fail me now? I know she's still taking them, I see her drink that wine every night at dinner with my own eyes!"<p>

"What are you talking about, Mother? Just calm down and tell me why you are so upset." Andrew had no idea what his mother could be ranting about now.

"The herbs a woman takes to prevent babies!" Andrew's face was shocked; he knew his brother's wife was distraught that she could not seem to conceive. "Oh, don't look so surprised, silly boy. Do you honestly think I want to see some whelp of your useless brother take over this kingdom?"

"You did what? Mother! How could you?" cried Andrew.

"It's a simple matter of herbs. The little ninny always drinks out of the same goblet, that awful thing she brought with her from the forest. It's easy enough to have one of the serving girls put the infusion into her cup; it is tasteless, odorless, and colorless. And I have a few of the serving girls under my influence."

"Tristan is your son, Mother! Your own son!"

"You are also my son. And the better one, I might add." Queen Garnet knew it was only a matter of time before her son saw that this was best. After all, he was only twenty, still a young man.

"But we have strayed from the point I am trying to make." The dowager sashayed to the sideboard in her son's borrowed chambers, pouring herself some wine. Any other time, she would have protested having to pour for herself, but she wanted no witnesses to this conversation, and right now her son was learning an important lesson in statecraft. "Blueberry," she remarked when she had tasted the wine. "My favorite." She savored another mouthful before continuing. "I need you to have your future told."

"You know I don't believe in that sort of thing, Mother," Andrew said distractedly. He was still taken aback by his mother's revelation.

"Not by some would-be soothsayer-witch out for a dram of gold, Andrew. I mean to summon Rumpelstiltskin. He sees the future, for true. He _knows_ what will come to pass. He can answer my questions. Well, your questions, really, but I shall instruct you as to what you must ask."

Andrew gaped at his mother's calm statement. "R-Rumpelstiltskin? Have you lost all sense of decency? He is a foul creature who will try to cheat me out of my soul, or my shadow, or perhaps my first-born son!"

"Really, now, Andrew! I'm ashamed of you!" Now was a time to be firm with her son, while his lesson was still sinking in. "'Do whatever you must to see that the right thing is done.' That is the most important lesson you will ever learn, my son. Learn it well, and perhaps you can rule this kingdom one fine day."

"If you must do something horrible, can the end result still be considered 'right?'" Andrew saw in his mother's eyes that she truly believed that the end justifies the means, no matter how vile those means may be. "You go too far, Mother. If Tristan were not fit to rule, Father and his advisors would have seen it, and he never would have been crowned king. And Rumpelstiltskin? You must be outside of your proper mind, Mother!"

"Do not speak thus to me. I am your mother, and you will show respect! Everything I have done has been for your benefit, and this is no different. I want you to be crowned King, and I pray that I live to see that glorious day!"

"You never understood, Mother," Andrew sighed. "I don't want to be king! I like my life as it is. I have important things to do, yes, but I do not have the cares of every person in this land hanging 'round my neck. The welfare of our fighting men is more than enough responsibility, and I care very much about them. I want them to be as happy as men can be when they are taken from their families. I _know_ soldiers, I understand them. Because I am one. But their women and children? And all the farmers and the weavers and the dyers and the smiths? All the common people who are so essential to our kingdom? What do I know of them? How can I make true and just decisions for people that I'm not sure I understand? I do not wish to be king, Mother. I never have."

Frustrated tears trembled in Garnet's eyes. "Do you not understand? Your very concern for doing right by the people proves that you will be a great king! Perhaps even greater than your father. Nigel's name will become the stuff of legend; he brought this kingdom out of a dark era that would have led us to the same fate as that star-crossed kingdom only a few steps away from this very room! Your father pulled the many factions together and became a king to satisfy them all! But now, with all that behind us, you could be the one to lead us into a Golden Era. King Andrew the Great! I can hear the accolades now!"

Andrew sighed. "The thing about such accolades, Mother, is that we will never be here to enjoy them, which is what you seem to care the most about. Even if I were to take the throne, it would not be until the end of my reign, or maybe even after my death, that historians would decide whether or not I issued anyone into a 'Golden Era.' And besides, if Ayala bears a son, then the throne would be held in trust for him, even if they did ask me to become his regent."

"Do not speak to me of that vile forest creature. Why your brother had to fall in love with a Golden Hind is beyond me. They're not even properly human, you know."

"Mother," Andrew started.

"And you!" his mother interrupted. "When I summon Rumpelstiltskin, you _will_ negotiate with that foul little imp. Just make sure of his price before you agree, and if he asks too much, then tell him so. _Bargain_ with him, find something he covets, or something he will find useful, and offer him that instead. In fact, I've brought something with me that I have reason to believe he will be interested in. But you will make that deal. I must know your future!"

* * *

><p>"Hey, Mike! Come on in," Noah said, smiling as he hugged his brother. Side by side, the two looked much the same; it was difficult to even tell that Noah was seven years older, until a closer look revealed the fine lines starting around his eyes and mouth.<p>

"Uncle Mikey, Uncle Mikey!" Noah's son Will, not yet five, threw himself at Mike's legs.

"Oh, man," groaned Mike, picking the small boy up. Will had his father's tanned skin and black hair, with his mother's light brown eyes that looked almost orange in a certain light. Will's eyes were tilted at the corners like Mike's, a trait that Noah had not inherited from their father. "You get heavier every day, Willy-boy! What are they feeding you, bricks?"

"I'm big boy now! Call me Will," the child insisted, glaring at his uncle.

"And yes," Mike's sister-in-law said, drying her hands on a dish towel as she entered the room, "I feed him bricks all the time. Just throw a little seasoning on them, and he doesn't even notice the difference, right Will?"

Turning to glower at his mother, Will replied, "I don't eat no bicks."

When the adults all laughed, Will struggled until Mike put him down, and then ran out of the room to find someone else to play with.

"Fawn, how are you," Mike asked, hugging his sister-in-law.

"I'm fine, Mike," she replied, with a sympathetic look in her eye. This business with her mother-in-law was really wearing on her husband; she knew Mike wouldn't be taking it any better.

"How is she?" Mike almost dreaded the answer.

"Back and forth," said Noah, his face grave. "Sometimes it's literally moment to moment. She'll be fine one second, and the next she's telling me I'll never be as good a man as Dad was, or saying that Fawn is trying to poison my mind."

"Poison your mind?" asked Mike incredulously.

"Yeah, apparently she thinks Fawn is trying to turn me against her. It all just sounds so…crazy." Noah blinked back tears.

"You've been dallying with that devil-woman, haven't you, Michael," his mother asked, stumping angrily into the room. "I can smell her trashy perfume all over you!"

"Mona," Fawn said, reaching out to try to soothe her mother-in-law. "Hush, now, he just came to see you."

Desdemona slapped Fawn's hand away. "You're no better, you little upstart! The only good thing you've done for my son is to give him a son of his own."

"Mother, please stop this nonsense," Mike begged, trying not to cry.

"I won't let her have you," Mona cried, shaking her finger in Mike's face. "She is a harlot who consorts with demons; there is no telling what hellish diseases she might give you. I'm going to keep you right here at home. With me. She won't get her filthy paws on you on my watch!"

"Don't you talk about Paige that way," Mike said, as calmly as he could force himself to speak. "You have no idea what that poor girl has been through. You don't know anything about her." Especially after that first therapy session the other day, Mike was more and more in awe of the obvious strength of Paige's character. He knew about some of things that had happened after her mother's suicide, and they were just as horrible.

Mona slapped her son. "Never name a witch, it might bring the Evil Eye upon you! And especially never name _that_ witch in my hearing. She has warped your mind! She's turning you against me. Just like that creature," she cried, pointing at Fawn. "A wild beast and a witch, both trying to steal my sons from right underneath my nose!" She began advancing on Fawn. "You're in league with that witch, aren't you? First you move in, steal away my firstborn son, and then you call in your little witch-friend to steal the other one! Well, just you wait, you'll both suffer! When you're called up for judgment and sent to your final punishment, I pray I am there to see your face as you burn!"

Noah stepped between his mother and his wife. "Stop it, Mom. This can't go on. You're just going to have to live with the fact that I'm married and Mike has a girlfriend. It doesn't mean we love you any less. No matter who we meet, you will _always_ be our mother! You gave birth to us, and that's a bond that's never going to go away. No one can take that from us. No one!"

Desdemona slumped, starting to cry. "I just love you both so much," she wept. "I only want what's best for you."

In moments, Mike and Noah found their arms tangling as they both embraced their mother at the same time. They held her tight, all three of them crying.

"We know, Mom," said Mike. "We know."

"Now let's go have dinner," Noah said, pulling away just enough to look into his mother's face. "Fawn and I made your favorite, sautéed chicken with mushrooms."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry to eat and run," Mike said as Noah walked him out to his car. "I've got to pick up Paige and take her to therapy." Mike glanced at his watch. "I can't believe it's only five-thirty."<p>

"I know, since we had dinner so early, it makes it feel like it should be later. But I've noticed that Mom's been going to bed pretty early anymore. She doesn't even eat with us if we eat at our normal dinner time." Noah sighed. "I'm really worried about her."

"Me too," frowned Mike. "But I've really got to go, I'm already running late. Paige will be waiting for me."

"I've got to meet this girl one of these days," teased Noah good-naturedly. "She must be something pretty special to have bagged you."

Mike smiled and ducked his head. "Yeah, one of these days I'll introduce you." His smile faded as he remembered. "But with Mom treating her like this…I don't know, maybe we can figure something out. Anyway, I'll see you later, Noah."

"Bye, Mike," Noah replied, looking just as somber as his brother.

* * *

><p>Tristan lounged on the bed, watching his wife brush out her long hair. It was literally the color of gold, the same color her pelt would be in her deer form. Her pregnancy was far too new to be showing yet, so her waist was still slim behind the belt of her dressing gown. The skin around her brownish-orange eyes crinkled up in smile lines as she watched her husband in the mirror. She had always loved the way he looked at her, but now that she was with child, it seemed different. Better. It was probably all in her mind, but it almost felt like their relationship had when it was new, when every glance was a flirtation, and even just to hold hands was almost as significant as a kiss.<p>

Ayala turned from her mirror. "What are you thinking, husband mine?"

"Only that I am the luckiest man in all the kingdoms. I have found my soul mate, and she loves me. And now, after all our patience, we are being rewarded with a child. Is there anything else a man could want of this life?"

Ayala laughed. "Oh, I'm sure there is much more, husband. But if you were that kind of man, I would never have left my forest."

"I know," Tristan smiled. "And that's another reason I'm the luckiest man. If I weren't me, you would never have loved me."

Getting up and walking to the bed, Ayala smiled fondly at her husband. "Sometimes you think too much, my king."

"And when that happens, you do a marvelous job of distracting me from my thoughts," Tristan said, taking his wife's hand and kissing it. "Sometimes I think you only distract me so you can think my thoughts for me, my queen," he teased, kissing her wrist. "I always did have a fondness for intelligent women."

"I have a confession to make, Tristan." Ayala's eyes were grave now.

"What has Mother done now," Tristan sighed, sitting up on the bed.

"How did you know I wanted to talk about her?"

"Ayala, you always treat me like a spun-glass sculpture when you wish to speak ill of my mother. I don't like to hear it, but that doesn't make it any less true. I spent years trying to convince myself that she's really a good person deep down, and that she truly loves me. But I've come to realize that she is conniving, grasping, and capable of true evil if she believes it will suit her purpose. She is the kind of person who believes that the end result will justify any means. As to her loving me, well, maybe once, but now? I'm not so sure."

Ayala sat on the bed, positioning herself so she could face her husband. "She was having something put in my wine. It's been going on since I came here, but until some of the serving girls caught that illness that's been going around, I never noticed." She blushed. "I never had wine before I came here, I didn't know what it was supposed to taste like. I could tell that there were herbs in it, but I just assumed it had something to do with how wine is made."

"What herbs," her husband asked suspiciously.

"I don't know what humans call them, so I gathered some of everything I could remember tasting, and I took it to a woman who deals in medicinal herbs." She paused. "The woman said they were the herbs that, when mixed together, would prevent babes until they were wanted."

"What?" Tristan knew where this conversation was headed, and although he knew what his mother was capable of, it was still painful to learn of yet another treachery from her. "How, then, did we manage it?"

"Apparently, the herbs are nearly always effective; either our determination and exuberance overcame them, or perhaps, since I'm not exactly human, my body was eventually able to counteract their effect. I am really not sure, husband."

After a moment's thought, Tristan stroked his wife's cheek. "What matters is that it happened. You are pregnant, and I will see Mother banished for this offense. We will have to be careful, though. She will admit nothing; we must catch her in the act."

* * *

><p>"Ah!" Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed, ducking under a low branch. He glanced around the small clearing, noting that Garnet and Andrew were sitting on a large log, and had placed another one on the far side of the fire from their own.<p>

"Please," said Garnet graciously, "sit down at our fire."

"Don't mind if I do," the little man gloated, suiting action to words with a grandiose flourish.

"My son wishes to know his future," the dowager stated when it became clear that Andrew was not going to speak first.

"Does he, now," asked Rumpelstiltskin, eyeing the prince shrewdly. "I could always use another shadow for my spells." At Andrew's expression, he laughed knowingly. "Of course, I could always ask for the baby your brother's wife is expecting." Garnet looked interested; could Andrew really pay _that_ price?

"You could ask for that," said Andrew, "but the child is not mine to give."

"True, true," mused Rumpelstiltskin, toying with the prince. "You'll have a firstborn of your own someday, though."

"No. I would not trade a child to you if you were going to make every pleasant dream I've ever had come true, let alone for a simple fortune."

"Ooh, such a forceful little princeling," said Rumpelstiltskin, putting his hands up in what would have seemed a gesture of submission if not for the mocking smirk on his face. "A fighter, then?"

"Just tell me your price."

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. "Let's see," he mused. "Oh," he cried after a moment, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Your father had a small vial on a necklace, shaped like a leaf. That vial contains something that I want."

"I brought the fairy dust with me," said the queen, indicating the leather cord around her son's neck.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a high-pitched laugh. "I know," he smirked.

"Very well," said Andrew. He felt that a small vial of fairy dust was worth more than simply having his future told, but still a better price than he had expected to hear. "It's yours. Once you have answered my questions."

"What are they," asked the impish little man.

"First, if I attempted to conquer this kingdom in which we sit, would I succeed? Secondly, if I did succeed, would I be able to hold the factions together or would they turn on me? And last, will I ever be king," Andrew said, grimacing.

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes and sat on the log, swaying slightly. After a moment, he began to speak. "This kingdom cannot be conquered by your kingdom alone; you have not the strength of men and arms. And even if you managed it, you would be assassinated before the year was out. You will be a king one day, but not the ruling variety. A flame-haired young woman will take you away from your kingdom and your family, and she shall be your queen. You shall defer to her in all things, for it is she who shall rule. But through your union with her, it may come to pass that both your brother's kingdom and your queen's will grow – a nice, mutually beneficial arrangement. Provided, of course, that you can keep anyone from getting murdered." His eyes popped open and he laughed maniacally, leaping up from the log and holding his hand out.

Garnet sat swaying, devastated by the news, as Andrew removed the necklace and handed it to Rumpelstiltskin, who capered a bit as he left the clearing.

"She can't have you," the queen mother said fiercely. "Whoever she is, you are _mine_, not hers! I won't let some red-headed usurper steal my son from me!"

Andrew sighed. He had known from the start that this was a bad idea, but he was too much of a gentleman to tell his mother that he had tried to warn her of this. The future isn't always what you want it to be.

* * *

><p>"I'd like to talk about my father this evening, if that's okay," Mike said, translating for Paige<p>

"Whatever you like, Paige." Checking his notes, Archie asked, "You said he became violent after your mother's death. Was any of that directed at you?" He already knew what her answer would be, based on her files.

"Yes. He told me that I looked too much like my mother. He also…" Mike's voice faded as he waited for Paige to continue signing. "He said when I was born, it did something that caused my mother to miscarry all of her other pregnancies. And that it was my fault that she killed herself."

"Was it just verbal abuse, or was it also physical?"

"He hit me a few times. Not as often as he could have, I guess. Then one day, almost a year after Mom…died, he threw me out of the house – literally. He tossed me over his shoulder, carried me outside, and threw me into the street. It was lucky there weren't any cars coming."

"What did you do then?"

"I hid outside until my dad drank himself to sleep. Then I snuck back in and grabbed some things I thought I'd need to run away – I even stole money from my dad's 'secret' stash. Then I got on my computer and went to this online chatroom I had found. There were some guys on there from a town about forty minutes from here, and they really seemed to care about me. I was talking about killing myself – that's what the chatroom subject was – and they had talked me out of it, saying that suicide wasn't really what the chatroom was about, it was just about expressing the feelings so you wouldn't _have_ to kill yourself. So we started our own little private conversation within the chatroom and I told them everything, all about my mom, and how my dad was treating me. And they acted like they really cared. So when I saw they were online that night, I told them my dad threw me out. They said I should come stay with them, that we'd work it all out somehow. I told them I had no way to get there, so they said they'd pick me up, but I had to meet them outside of town limits, because if anyone found out where I was, they'd just take me back to my dad." Mike felt his stomach clench; he knew what was coming next. "So I said I'd meet them by that stone sign – the one that got hit the other night? But when they got there – they dragged me into the woods… and they…" Mike waited again, tears in his eyes. He always hated to hear Paige cry. "They raped me. They hurt me. So bad."

Paige, who had curled in on herself as much as she could, hid her face as she cried. Mike spoke softly and gently to her, asking if he could tell Dr. Hopper about his memories of the next day. She nodded, and Mike turned to the doctor with the same question. When Archie also agreed, Mike took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

"I guess her dad felt bad about what he did, or maybe he drank enough that he forgot, because he reported her as missing the next day. He was really upset, said his emergency cash was missing and that she would never have taken it. He told the sheriff that his house had been broken into and he was afraid his daughter had been kidnapped. So the sheriff gathered volunteers to comb the woods for her. I was one of them. We were all calling her name as we went, and suddenly we heard Mr. Gold yelling that he'd found her, and then there was this bloodcurdling scream. Mr. Gold said it was Paige. She must have thought he was one of her attackers coming back." He noticed that Paige was looking at him. He had never told her any of this before. She signed something to him. "She says she doesn't remember being found. As far as she knows, she passed out in the woods while those guys were still…hurting her, and then she woke up in the hospital. But that scream was the last sound anyone has heard her make."

After a moment of silence, Paige began signing to him again. "The doctors say there's nothing wrong with my throat," Mike translated. "They have no idea why I can't seem to make a sound." She paused for a long moment, lost in her painful memories. "Apparently one of the guys was especially… sick. There were bite marks covering my entire body, and the doctors said they all came from the same individual." Paige's hands were still for a moment. "I don't remember being bitten." She put her hands in her lap, and seemed to be looking inward. It wasn't entirely a lie; she really didn't remember any of the guys she met online biting her. There was a long silence in the room.

While Archie was still trying to determine if he should prompt her again or let her resolve whatever inner thoughts were distracting her, Mike started translating again. "That felt good. I've never told anyone before today – not even Mike. I don't know why, but it's so easy to talk to you, Dr. Hopper."

"It's been eight years. You're moving on to a part of the healing process where telling someone the story is good for you."

"And it helps that you're good at listening," Mike translated.

"Thanks," said Archie, feeling a bit embarrassed. Listening was his job, after all. "So what happened to your father?"

"It was while I was in the hospital that he gave up. He just sat in his chair. He wouldn't even feed himself. He still won't. Someone has to spoon every bite into his mouth. I certainly wasn't in any position to care for him, so Mr. Gold came to me and told me that he'd take care of everything. He got my dad put into an assisted living facility," Mike voice hitched. He hadn't even realized that the thought was in the back of his mind, but now that he knew Mr. Gold could help, he understood that he'd been considering putting his mother in such a facility, provided he could find a good one. He couldn't do anything without discussing it with his brother first, though. A sudden sharp tap on his knee brought him back to Dr. Hopper's office.

**Are you alright, Mike? **Paige asked. **You stopped translating for a minute there. You look so sad.**

"Oh, Paige, I'm sorry. Something you said made me think of something. Sorry."

**Do you mind telling me? Later, of course, I don't mean right now. When you're ready?**

"Of course. Let's, um, let's keep going." Paige's hands began moving again, with Mike translating. "He got my dad a place in an assisted living facility, and he took care of all the legal stuff. He agreed to become my guardian, and when they told him that he could reconsider since I couldn't seem to speak and someone would have to care for me until I could, or for the rest of my life if I never regained speech, he still agreed to take care of me." She paused for a moment, looking contemplative. "Mr. Gold has been very good to me."

"It certainly sounds like he has," said Archie.

"He spoke to the council for me, so I could move out on my own. He's done so much." As he translated, Mike noticed how serious her face was. The thing that disturbed him was that he couldn't tell if she was sad or grateful. But, as she had said, Mr. Gold had done everything in his power to help Paige. Mike supposed that was enough to make anyone feel contemplative. It's not every day that a complete stranger will go to such lengths for a person in need.

Paige changed the subject after that, spending the rest of her session telling stories about her childhood. Most of them were funny, but even some of those nearly started her crying again. Talking about her mother was still hard for her, but it gave Mike a sense of pride to see how she was opening up. He had a feeling that, if the council did try to revoke Paige's right to live on her own, Dr. Hopper would be a valuable ally.

* * *

><p>"You cannot banish me!" screamed Garnet.<p>

"I, King Tristan, son of the great King Nigel, hereby declare you a traitor to the kingdom. You no longer have any rank, rights, or privileges in this kingdom. You are hereby banished," he spoke the word with three syllables instead of two, "and, should you continue to betray this monarchy, or attempt to return to this kingdom for any reason other than your imminent death, you will be disowned by the royal family and put to death."

As Tristan finished his pronouncement, the gathered knights and nobility were solemn. Many of them could remember when Garnet had been a kind and gracious queen, and those who were too young had heard whispered stories once the rumors of the dowager queen's impending punishment had begun to spread. The general consensus was that losing her husband had been hard on her, and she could not handle the grief.

Garnet wept; now, she was losing her sons as well. She had thought that she wanted Tristan dead and gone, but she was beginning to realize that, for all his faults, he was still his father's son. Both boys had inherited their father's tan complexion and black hair, and although Tristan's eyes were brown like his father's, they were shaped like her own. Andrew's eyes were tilted at the corners like Nigel's had been, but they were a deep, clear blue like hers. She stared greedily at both of her sons, trying to memorize their faces.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unheard, as the wagon lurched to a start. She was being sent to a small house just across the border, not far from one of the border posts. Provisions were to be sent to her for as long as she chose to stay in that house, and should the neighboring kingdom attack, she was to be permitted a small room along the outer wall of the nearest guard post. She sincerely hoped that Andrew would come to see her whenever his duties brought him there.

* * *

><p>Paige was woken in the middle of the night by Mr. Gold's hand on her shoulder, shaking gently. When she turned and saw him, he told her why he was there. "Noah called Michael over to his house. Their mother is causing a scene again."<p>

**What is she doing now**, asked Paige as she sat up, feeling guilty at the rush of relief when she realized that Mrs. Cochran had not come pounding at her door this time.

"Apparently she woke Noah's little boy and made him crawl into the pantry, while she stood outside to 'defend' him. Michael said she was claiming that you were about to break in and steal the boy for another evil spell."

Paige felt tears forming in her eyes. **Why does she hate me so much, **she signed.

"I don't know, dear," said Mr. Gold, putting his arms around Paige and pulling her close. For several moments, Paige sat there stiffly, trying not to cry. But Mr. Gold started stroking her hair and whispering that it was okay to cry, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. She relaxed into his arms and let herself be held as she sobbed silently into Mr. Gold's chest.

After she had calmed down, Mr. Gold pulled back and wiped a tear from her cheek.

**Mike's thinking of putting her in a home, like my father,** Paige signed.

"Yes, he called to ask me if I could recommend a place," Mr. Gold replied.

**That's not an easy decision to make. I feel so bad for him.**

"I remember how hard it was for you," Mr. Gold commiserated. "Now, then," he said, changing the subject, "you remember that violin you were admiring when we did inventory? I know you said you couldn't afford it, so I'm prepared to give it to you. Would you like that?"

Paige nodded, but signed, **Are you sure?**

"Of course I'm sure," he said, lightly drawing just the tips of his fingers down the back of her arm, where her skin was sensitive. She shuddered and looked up at him, her eyes suddenly wary. "I won't charge you any money for it, but you can't get something for nothing, you know."

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode, "The Price of Gold."

In case you were wondering, yes, the blueberry wine that Prince Andrew gives to the men at the outpost is from Eliza's kingdom. Both kingdoms are small, and are separated by the same star-crossed kingdom whose border Andrew and his men are guarding. This kingdom has been in a civil war for over fifty years (making the wine that much rarer) – more on that in another chapter, though…

For those of you who don't know (I didn't!), I researched the effects of pepper spray; it can take anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours for it to wear off. If you are sprayed with it, you should not rub at it, as this will make it worse, and Mr. Gold knocked himself unconscious, so he wasn't exactly in any position to rub at it. This means that he was out for at least 45 minutes to an hour, maybe a bit longer. **I do not know if this fits in with ABC's intentions, but it fits my story, so this is what I'm going with.**

The dowager queen claims that the contraceptive infusion she has been slipping into Queen Ayala's wine is "tasteless, odorless, and colorless," but Ayala tells her husband that she tasted it. This is not a mistake; for any human woman, Garnet's words would prove true, but Ayala is a Golden Hind, a creature of the forest, so her senses are much more finely attuned than those of any human.

The leaf-shaped vial containing fairy dust is intended to be the very same vial Snow White uses to save Prince Charming in "Snow Falls." Clearly, Rumpelstiltskin traded it out on some future deal, so that it ended up in the possession of whomever Snow robbed just before Charming captured her. **I do not know if ABC has any intentions of connecting the vial to Rumpelstiltskin or any other character in the show. This twist is entirely my own idea.**

And yes, Mr. Gold's last line was another deliberate Ursula quote.


	4. S1 Ch4 - Overcome

As usual, I do not own the show or ABC's characters, only the ones I have created...

And once again, sorry this took soooo long! Between the holidays and work, things were already difficult enough, and then Chapters 5 and 6 kept poking me with scenes and snippets, and they wouldn't leave me alone! So since those chapters have already tried to write themselves, hopefully they will go much faster, lol!

R&R, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Deep beneath the castle, deeper than the dungeons, King Owen gave the passwords to the two guards standing before a small, plain door. When they let him through, he was in a narrow hallway with a similar door at the far end. Two more guards stood in front of the second door, awaiting a different set of passwords. Owen knew that there were hidden doors along the hallway, with another guard behind each one in case the passwords were incorrect and the signal to attack was given. Their orders were to detain if possible, and aim to disable in the case that violence was required. No single guardsman knew both sets of passwords, which were changed at random intervals. Owen sighed, wondering if someone had once tried, or perhaps succeeded, in stealing the crown jewels in the past. It was entirely possible, though, that one of his ancestors had simply been paranoid.<p>

Once through the second door, there was only a small, round chamber with a pedestal holding a gaudy crown. It was a fake, of course. The jewels looked very real, but they were glass imitations carefully crafted untold years ago by a brilliant royal jeweler who, legend had it, had mysteriously disappeared after creating this monstrosity.

Standing by the pedestal with the door at his back, he reached around to press a tiny nub on the base of the back side of the pedestal. This caused the floor to begin dropping downward to his left, making a spiral staircase. Owen suddenly realized that he had no idea how the staircase was reset after each visit down here. Was there some other nub that one could press to start some sort of reverse mechanism? Or did some of the guards have to push the pieces back up manually? The king, lost in his musings, was surprised when he found himself in front of the door to the room that actually contained the crown jewels that were not in use.

Inside, the king opened up a deep, velvet-lined drawer. It held a silver tiara with a sapphire suspended in a diamond-studded heart, next to a solid silver circlet with a similar sapphire surrounded by diamonds set into it. They were known as the Blueberry Diadem and the Blueberry Coronet, respectively, and they were for the Crown Princess or Prince of the kingdom. The heir to the throne wore this from the age of 18 until he or she became the ruler. If, however, a king or queen died before their eldest reached 18, the child would wear whichever of these was appropriate until they reached their18th year, when they were legally able to take the throne.

Eliza would be 18 next month. In the year since she had left the manor in the forest to practice her statecraft, she had learned so much. He was very proud of his daughter, and he smiled fondly as he placed the Blueberry Diadem and the matching Blueberry Scepter into their carrying case. The scepter was silver and smaller than his own; it was mainly for formal functions of state, showing that the bearer had been found worthy to be the next ruler.

Eliza was currently visiting with her brothers. She would be returning in a week; plenty of time to have the scepter and tiara polished up in preparation for the celebrations. The plans for the jousting tournament were well under way; in certain rooms in the castle, the sounds of men practicing their tilting skills could be dimly heard if all else were silent. The king smiled fondly, remembering his own days on the tourney field. But that was when he was a much younger man.

* * *

><p>Paige and Mike both had the day off, so they had decided to spend it together. Mike wanted to go out and have fun to take his mind off his problems. He had spoken to Noah about putting their mother into an assisted living facility, but Noah had exploded at the suggestion. Then, later that very night, their mother had terrified poor little Will, and Noah had asked Mike to come over and help calm her down. Mike had not dared to bring his suggestion up again, but as they both sat up in Noah's spare bedroom while their mother fell asleep, Noah had given Mike several considering looks. They hadn't spoken again yet, so Mike had no idea where Noah now stood on the issue.<p>

Paige didn't want to be the one to bring up the painful decision she knew Mike was struggling with. She remembered how upset she had been when Mr. Gold told her that such a thing was necessary for her father. She hadn't really had much say in it; Mr. Gold had taken charge. After all, Paige was still about two weeks shy of her 17th birthday when she ran away from home. Not being of age, and being in the ICU besides, she was not considered capable of making that decision. At first she had resented Mr. Gold for locking her father away, but after she was well on the road to recovery and was able to hear the bad news from her father's doctor, she understood that there really hadn't been a better choice.

But they both tried to put their dark thoughts behind them for the day. In the morning, they both worked in the large flower garden they shared. The Cochran family had moved here after Mike's father had died, intending to rent out the other half. But when there were still no renters by the time Noah turned 18, Desdemona decided to let him move into the other half; so there was never a need to put a fence between the two backyards, even when Noah married Fawn, who was delighted to help her mother-in-law with the garden. When Mike turned 18, his mother found herself a small apartment, leaving both of her sons with their own place. When Fawn found out she was pregnant two years later, she and Noah decided they needed more room and bought a house. Mike asked his mother if she would like to come back and live in either side of the duplex, but she was settled in her apartment complex, and said she had made many friends there whom she would not be able to see as often if she moved back in.

When Paige moved in, she was enchanted by the garden Mike's mother had started. There were benches everywhere, and Mrs. Cochran had put in a beautiful fountain in memory of her husband, who had loved to sit at the park in Storybrooke to watch the fountain there.

The fountain in the back yard had a simple grace to it, and Paige adored it from the moment she saw it. The garden was beautifully arranged around it, and when Mike had offered to put up a fence between their yards, she couldn't bear to see the garden marred like that.

Working in the dirt was soothing for both of them; they rarely even looked at each other, but their silence was a comfortable one. As she worked, Paige kept cutting flowers and decorative foliage that caught her eye, and at one point she noticed Mike doing the same. Fall was beginning; there wouldn't be too many more chances to make flower arrangements this year.

They were able to make three bouquets, and when they had put them in vases, they added a solution that would help preserve the bouquets for longer than water alone. Then they cleaned themselves up and went out to eat at Granny's.

After a delicious lunch that, of course, ended with pie for dessert, Mike took Paige to the arcade. She had never been there before, and she was terrible at most of the games, but Mike could tell that she was still having fun.

But it was when she found the DDR machine that Paige really lit up.

**Can we try that? **she signed. Mike didn't like the idea of everyone watching as he made an idiot out of himself, but Paige looked so excited. So he told himself that there weren't _that_ many people in the arcade right now, swallowed his pride, and put coins into the machine.

The pure delight on Paige's face made it worth his while. He had never seen her smile this much. After a few rounds, Mike handed over his quarters and sat down on a nearby bench. "I can't take any more of this," he puffed. Paige, flushed and breathing hard, smiled and thanked him before turning back to play some more Dance Dance Revolution. She wasn't that good at this game, either, but Mike thought she was starting to get a little better even as he watched. He had never really noticed before how gracefully she moved.

**That was fun, **Paige signed, sitting down beside him some time later. She was out of breath, but still smiling. **Thanks for bringing me here. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. **She leaned her head on Mike's shoulder and sighed happily. Without even thinking, he put his arm around her. When she snuggled in closer, he realized what he had done. He knew he shouldn't make their pretense of a relationship any harder on her than it had to be, but it felt so right to hold her like this. Besides, it would have looked odd and awkward if he pulled away now.

After a few moments, Mike looked at his watch. "Oh, we'd better go if we're going to see that movie," he said. Paige stretched, then stood and offered Mike a hand.

**Let's go, then,** she said, after Mike was on his feet.

* * *

><p>As they walked out of the movie theater and into the parking lot, Mike was trying to decide whether or not he should hold Paige's hand. He wanted to, and it would present the right image to anyone who saw them, but still, there was Paige's heart to consider. He wouldn't dream of telling her this, but that night when he had cried in her arms, he had noticed the pain on Paige's face. He knew something was hurting her, and he was very much afraid that it was him. What else could it be?<p>

Just when he had decided to reach out for Paige's hand, the ground shook violently beneath them. Paige fell to the ground, and Mike landed on his hands and knees. It was over quickly. Mike took a deep breath to steady himself, then looked at Paige to see if she was okay.

Paige was hyperventilating, reaching out with her hands to pat the ground around her as if she were afraid it would disappear. Her face was wild with terror, and tears had started rolling down her cheeks.

"Paige!" Mike cried, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Paige, are you okay?"

At first, she glanced desperately around, her eyes sliding right past Mike as if she couldn't even see him. Then she suddenly stared straight at him for a moment before flinging herself into his arms. She was shaking desperately. Mike did the only thing he could think of. He just held her tight and stroked her hair, whispering in her ear. He had no idea what he was saying; calming her down was all that mattered.

A few minutes later, a car pulled into the parking lot. The driver saw them sitting there, and stopped to get out of her car.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're fine, she's just freaked out by that earthquake," Mike answered.

"Do you guys need a ride somewhere? Like the hospital, maybe?"

"No, thank you, we'll be fine. My car's right over there; I can take her if I need to."

"Okay, if you're sure," the lady said, clearly not certain she should just walk away and leave them there.

"Thanks again," Mike said as the woman got back into her car.

He helped Paige stand up and managed to walk her over to his car. Her breathing was still rapid and shallow, but she was no longer gasping for breath.

"Paige, are you okay?"

When Paige looked up at him, her eyes were a lot calmer than they had been before. Mike felt a little bit of the tension seep out of his body.

**I'm sorry,** Paige signed, her hands trembling. **I'm afraid of earthquakes.**

"Afraid?" Mike asked incredulously.

**I guess it's more like a phobia, really,** Paige replied. **I'm terrified of the idea that the ground might be breaking up and falling away. Have you ever seen it in the movies, where a huge chasm opens up at somebody's feet, and there are pieces of the ground just falling down and down and you can't see the bottom? I can't watch those movies, they give me horrible nightmares.**

Mike hugged her tight. "It's okay, Paige, I'm here."

Paige wanted to thank him, but she was hugging him just as tightly as he was holding her. This was the first earthquake she had felt in Storybrooke, but she remembered another earthquake, in another place. A much nicer place than this, where she had been a much different person…

* * *

><p>"You know, Father, you could spend the night at the manor," Eliza said.<p>

"And leave the kingdom to its own devices for two whole days," Owen countered, teasing his daughter.

"You can leave everything in my capable hands," she replied, refusing to be baited. "The boys would love it, Father."

Owen looked more serious. "You're right, Eliza. And I'd like it, too."

"Do it, Father. I've learned a lot this past year, and I'll have Sir Ryan and Doctor Nerean here to advise me." Sir Ryan was her father's right-hand man, a true and trusted friend. He was not quite three years younger than Owen.

"Alright," the king decided, "I'll do it!"

* * *

><p>Eliza was in the middle of hearing a dispute between two peasants when the earth began to shake. For several moments, everything shook and swayed; many tables and floor sconces toppled. Despite all her efforts, Eliza was thrown from her father's throne, landing in a sprawling heap in front of the two farmers, who had fallen at the first tremor.<p>

The princess had never been more terrified in her life, but with one look at the panic on the farmers' faces, she realized that it was up to her to keep everyone calm. As she looked around, even some of the guards were terrified.

"Guards," Eliza cried, striving to put every ounce of authority she could manage into her voice, "start checking the castle, see if anyone is hurt and if there is any major damage. My people come first, but if any room is unsafe, see it cleared of all persons and then barricaded until it can be seen to. Also, send out messengers to the town and the outlying farms to assess the damage there." She was breathing too hard; just speaking had been an effort. But without pausing for more than a moment, she turned to the farmers. Helping one of them up, she asked, "Are you alright, goodman?" She could not for the life of her remember either of their names right now. Usually that was easy for her; the fact that she'd forgotten this quickly frustrated her, even though she knew it was not her fault. When the first man nodded, Eliza offered her hands to the second. "And you?" He nodded as well, although both men seemed a bit dazed.

"I do apologize that I will be unable to attend to your dispute just now. You may wait until I am assured that my people are safe, or, if you wish, you may return to your farms and come back another day."

"I shoulds make sure the wife is well, iffen you don't mind, Princess," the first man said, wringing his cap.

"Me too, m'lady, me wife is awful afeared of things fallin' an' shakin', 'specially with the new babe in the house," the second man said, agreeing with his neighbor for perhaps the first time.

"I understand. Please, go safely. And speak to Sir Ryan on your way out; I see him just outside the door, there. Give him your names, and when you can return for my judgment, he will see to it that you are put at the top of the list." Noting the wary yet wondering way the two men were eyeing each other, Eliza suspected that they might not have to come back for judgment.

* * *

><p>Almost two hours later, about half of the messengers had returned. Most of the damage was minimal, and while several people were injured, none had died. Sir Ryan was taking down reports of the levels of damage as they came in, marking them on his map in an attempt to discover the source.<p>

"Sit, now, Eliza," said Doctor Nerean. "Your health, it must be seen to."

Eliza jumped slightly; she hadn't heard him approach. It worried her that she had not heard his hooves clacking against the stone floor. Waving the doctor away, Eliza said, "See to my people first." She was pacing to and fro, mostly to disguise the fact that she was still trembling.

"Your agitation, it is being unlike you, Princess."

Eliza always hated it when Nerean went all formal on her. He had delivered her, after all, and always called her Eliza, except when he felt uncomfortable or was wallowing in his self-reproach. Since her mother's passing, every time he called her Princess, she feared he was once again mentally flailing himself for failing to save the queen. Eliza bore him no ill will for that; it had been her decision, after all. And, as much as it sometimes hurt to think of it this way, her mother would have approved of that decision.

She looked into the doctor's eyes, searching for signs that he was accusing himself of failure. What she saw instead was a sudden understanding, followed by a deep compassion.

"This way, Eliza. Please, be sitting down for a moment." He took her by the arm and led her over to a long, padded bench under a stained-glass window. "Being afraid should bear you no shame, sweet girl."

Eliza, now hugging herself to mask her trembles, smiled fondly at the faun. Nerean had not called her that since she was little. He had only used that nickname when she was scared and in pain from some childhood accident. She had always secretly thought that his voice sounded like the trees in the forest, as if Nature itself were telling her not to be afraid.

The doctor thumbed her eyelids one at a time, using his free hand to block and unblock the light of the floor sconce next to the bench. "A great shock this has been, to all of us. Many screamed and were trying to flee, but where one can find safe haven from such a thing, I cannot be guessing."

"I've never felt the earth shift its bones so much," Eliza said uneasily. Even the small earthshakes she had felt before had been scary, but this was something else entirely.

"My people, we are having a legend about this thing," said Nerean, moving a finger back and forth, up and down, to see how well Eliza's eyes could follow it.

"Will you tell it to me?" Eliza remembered Nerean's stories from her childhood, but they had always been about things that had happened to him or to other fauns, never about the legends and stories they told to their children.

"If that is something you would wish to hear, then tell you I shall," Nerean answered, drawing a vial out of his medical bag. "Drink this, it is for the calming of one's nerves." When Eliza looked askance at it, he said, "It will not taste so very bad, Eliza."

Upon drinking it, Eliza stared at Nerean, surprised. "Blueberry beer?" she asked incredulously.

"Strong spirits have ever been proof against fear and nervousness," the faun said, smiling. Eliza smiled too, seeing that familiar twinkle in his eye. Here was his usual, mischievous attitude. "Now," he continued, "you wished, I believe, to hear the legend?"

"Please, good doctor," Eliza said, still smiling as she settled herself comfortably.

Nerean smiled to himself as he placed the empty vial back into his bag; between his routine health check and her eagerness to hear his story, Eliza's trembling had ceased. "I shall have to be starting at the beginning, or the legend, it will not make very much of sense." Eliza nodded; she still wanted to hear. Nerean cleared his throat before he continued. "It is said that many, many years ago, so very many that no one has been ever able to be counting them all, there was a mighty creature called Earth. And Earth, she was being feared by some, and revered by others, but the shimmering beast called Moon loved her very much. So much that he followed her; days upon days would he go with out food just to be keeping near her." Here Nerean paused. But Eliza was not a faun, perhaps she would not ask the question that most little fauns asked.

But she did. "Earth is female?"

"Of course, little one," said Nerean, honoring the time-old habits of his kind. "Look around you, and you will be seeing her fruits. Not merely apples and pears and berries, but also the beautiful trees that only are flowering and do not fruit, or do not flower at all, and every other kind of plant, and all the creatures of the forest. For she is our Mother; from her were we birthed and to her shall we one day be returning. When an apple falls in the deep forest where there is no one to eat it, it returns to its Mother, and then the soil, why, it is being enriched. When a tree falls where none need move it, it, too, works to be completing the cycle. It is for this reason that when we ourselves no longer are having need of these bodies, others of our kind will bury the fallen in a grave, which we call, 'the last embrace,' and once there, our bodies will also enrich the Earth."

"Why is it called an embrace," Eliza asked, almost as if she knew what a young faun should ask.

"Any time you are laying yourself upon the Earth, upon any part, such as the grass, or a rock, or even while easing your bones in a hot spring, you are letting the Mother embrace you. She is holding you, and you are being held. But when your body dies, it will be welcomed into the Mother's arms and put to good use. It is being the last embrace, and it is forever."

Eliza fidgeted, but did not speak. She was torn between her fascination with this part of the legend and her curiosity to know how this related to the shaking of the earth.

"Ah, but now I am branching into another story, for another time," Nerean said, over-exaggerating his distress at letting himself be distracted by the questions of foolish younglings. But this fell somewhat flat, for Eliza was not a faun. Any young faun would laugh at this obvious jibe, for all fauns had a tendency to do just that.

Nerean continued, barely even feeling off-balance. He had been living with humans for quite some time, now; he was accustomed to their difference in humor. "Now, the Earth, she rather was liking the shimmering Moon, but alas, did not return his deeper affections. For her attraction was to the bright-shining, golden Sun, who was barely even noticing her. So now it was Earth going for days without food, just to stay close to the Sun. And soon, she had been so long in his presence, and so very much had basked in his intrinsic warmth, that she was falling asleep. And once Earth was asleep, she began to dream. These dreams, they did cause everything that is existing here. The forests and grasses are her fur, grown quite wild in some places from no grooming. And thriving generation after thriving generation passed, until one day, a faun was born of the forest. And more fauns. And so many varied species to be keeping them company."

"Like humans?"

Eliza's question made Nerean smile. It was so like the kind of question a little faun would ask. "Yes, dear one, humans as well. And we all are walking upon this Earth, and the Mother dreams of us. But one day, she will waken. Every time the Earth trembles, 'tis the Mother shifting in her sleep. And sometimes, the shifting of one's body in one's sleep is a harbinger of waking. That is why earthshakes, as you humans are calling them, are both frightening and wondrous all at once. Wondrous because we all love the Mother, and want her to be well and happy, but frightening because we do not know what will happen to us when she wakes." He was solemnly silent for a moment. "Some say the Mother will be taking care of us, nurturing us, helping us to grow. But others say that she may no longer need us, and may cause us all to enrich her at once, hoping that such enhancement as we her creatures can provide will be serving to interest the fickle beast called Sun."

Eliza's eyes were as wide as any young faun hearing that story for the first time. Nerean smiled, resisting the urge to pat her between the nubs as he would a child of his own kind.

* * *

><p>"We could wait until tomorrow," Mike offered, not sure if Paige was up to another outing today, especially this one.<p>

**We already have the bouquets, we may as well. Besides, I'd like to talk to her. It always makes me feel better, even though…** Paige's hands faltered.

"I understand," said Mike, taking Paige's hands in his own. "I feel the same way sometimes. Well, let's get changed, then."

* * *

><p>Each of them carried one of the bouquets that they had made that morning; the third had been left on Paige's kitchen table for decoration. They were now dressed up; Mike in dress slacks, dress shoes, and a royal blue dress shirt with a narrow, slightly darker blue tie with a print of small, silvery diamond shapes on it. Paige wore a black dress that had a pattern of large, white roses and a crinoline underskirt. The hem hit right around her knees, and she wore a black shrug over her shoulders. She wore a pair of strappy, heeled sandals that zipped up the front, with tassels on the zippers. Her mother had always liked to see her dress up.<p>

Hand in hand, they walked through the graveyard. At a branching of the path, Mike said, "I'll meet you here at this bench when you're through." They had only recently starting visiting the graveyard together; the first few times, whoever had finished first went to where the other was still mourning. Both had found the experience somewhat uncomfortable. When they were planning this visit, they agreed that they would find a neutral spot to meet, so as not to intrude on each other's grief.

**Okay, I'll see you soon,** signed Paige. They went their separate ways.

* * *

><p>Mike knelt by a large headstone with an enormous cross etched into it. "Here lies William F. Cochran." Below that, in smaller letters above the birth and death dates, read "Our Hero left us too soon." That phrase always made Mike tear up; his father, a volunteer fireman, had died saving a four-year-old girl from a house where a tree had collapsed onto the roof. It was their neighbors' house, and Mike, Noah, and their mother had stood on the lawn while the tree crushed the house. He replaced the old, withered bouquet with the new one, and started wiping dust and grass clippings off of the tombstone.<p>

* * *

><p>For a long moment, Paige simply stood in front of her mother's grave. "Fayette M. Cygnus, nee Colson. Beloved wife and mother." Below that were simply the dates of her birth and her death. The stone had a pair of doves engraved on it, and below the words, the piece at the bottom stuck out rather farther than usual, with a deep depression in the center. The hollow was meant for placing a gazing ball or other round decoration, but Paige had a different use for it.<p>

First she swapped out the bouquets, and carefully groomed the stone. She swept dirt and ashes out of the hollow in the stone, wiping the surface clean with a tissue. Then she took out a piece of stationery, and read it out in her mind as if she were speaking to her mother through some form of telepathy.

_Mother,_

_I miss you so much. They say time will ease the pain, but it feels no different. It will be nine years this November, and I still blame myself. No matter what world we are in, I have wronged you. This is all my fault. Will the nightmares ever stop? Will I ever be able to find out if you are truly in a better place, as everyone always says?_

_I was almost at peace with it before. But when the curse brought me here and gave me such awful, vivid memories of your death in this place, _here the page was spattered with tears; the word death had been difficult to write, _I couldn't take it anymore. I know these memories are false, but that makes no difference; they still feel real. I wish you were here to hold me like you used to. I wish my brothers were here, and I wish I could see Father again. But last time Doctor Horne mentioned my name to him, he tried to kill himself. I wonder if he blames himself for your death. I doubt he remembers the truth, as I do. I seem to be the only one, except for the person who cast this terrible curse._

_I have always loved you with all my heart, and that will never change. If only…but no. Those words only lead to more pain._

_With all my love,_

_Your adoring daughter_

Paige never signed the notes to her mother, as she frequently alluded to their true past. When she wrote these notes, she was never sure which name to use, so she opted for none.

She folded the letter again and placed in the depression in the tombstone. Then she pulled a matchbox out of her purse. Her eyes were blurred with tears, but she had done this often. She lit a match and placed it on top of the stationery. As the paper caught fire and sent tendrils of smoke into the air, Paige watched the flames, tears sliding down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Once again walking hand in hand, Mike and Paige left the graveyard, looking somber. Their eyes were red from crying.<p>

"So I was thinking," Mike said, "for dinner we could just stop at the store and get something from the deli."

**What did you have in mind, **Paige signed, after removing her hand from Mike's.

"Oh, I don't know. We could get subs, or fried chicken from the hot bar, something."

**Well, I really don't feel like cooking right now. So yeah, an easy dinner sounds great.**

* * *

><p>They had ended up with a small rotisserie chicken and some grilled vegetables off the deli's hot bar. Despite their mood, they were both hungry, so there was nothing left. Mike was agitated; one of his coworkers had told him that she'd heard the source of the earthquake earlier had been pinpointed. It came from the old mines just outside of town.<p>

He wanted to go down there and see what was happening, but Paige had told him that she had no intention of going any closer to the mines than she had to. He could understand; if there was another earthquake, or collapse, or whatever it had been, surely it would be worse that close to the source. Paige's face had gone pale from the mere suggestion that they go down there. There was no question of Mike leaving Paige alone right now, though.

**Mike, if you really want to go that badly, just go. I'll be fine,** Paige signed, trying to reassure him.

"What? I never said I wanted to go without you," Mike answered, flustered.

**It's obviously driving you nuts,** Paige signed. **I'll be fine.**

Mike took a good look at her eyes. "No, you won't. I can see how scared you are to be alone right now." Swallowing hard, he said, "I'll just find someone to ask about it tomorrow."

**Please, I don't want to hold you back. Yes, I'm scared, but I'll get over it. **Paige felt guilty; she knew Mike had sacrificed much of his social life to become one of her guardians. She hated knowing that she was responsible for keeping him from doing what he wanted.

Mike said, "What about Mr. Gold? I could drop you off at his shop, and you'd have someone there with you in case it happened again."

Paige turned away to think. She could see that Mike was going to be stubborn about not leaving her alone, no matter what she said. So she made her choice for Mike's sake rather than her own.

**Alright,** she signed as she turned back to Mike.

When he answered the phone, Mr. Gold sounded pleased to hear Mike's proposal. Mike talked with him for a few minutes, and then hung up the phone.

"He says he was thinking about calling me anyway. Some things got knocked around in his shop, and with his leg, he's having some trouble getting it all cleaned up. He was hoping you would be willing to come in for a little while. He even offered to pay you time and a half if you would help out tonight."

Paige thought briefly of changing out of her dress, but Mike was in a hurry to get to the mines before all the excitement was over.

* * *

><p>Mike had had a private word with Mr. Gold before he left, to explain that Paige's phobia was the main reason he had not wanted to leave her alone tonight. Mr. Gold assured Mike that he would take good care of Paige if anything happened.<p>

Once they were alone in the shop, Mr. Gold turned to Paige with a wicked look on his face. He had never seen her in a dress before in this world, and he found that he quite liked it.

"Now, then, Paige," he said. As he moved forward, she tried to back up, only to find herself bumping into a wall. Before she could try to sidle away, Mr. Gold was close enough to lean toward the wall, placing a hand on either side of her so she couldn't get away.

He propped his cane up against the wall, then bent to put his hands on her bare legs just below the hem of her dress. He slowly slid his hands up her legs, the hem catching on his wrists and riding up as he continued.

Paige pushed ineffectively at his hands, looking frantically toward the door of the shop. Anyone could walk in!

"Now, now," Mr. Gold said softly. "With all the excitement at the mines, we're not very likely to be interrupted, and even if someone came in, they can't see us here until they've walked almost all the way to the counter. Plenty of time for us to make ourselves decent," he said, smirking as his hands reached her hips.

* * *

><p>While her ladies-in-waiting prepared her for the coming ceremony, Eliza stared gravely into the mirror. When her father had returned the day after the earthshake, which they had not even felt at the manor, she had been searching for him to tell him about the two farmers whose judgment had been interrupted. As she approached her father's chambers, she had heard voices from inside, so she sat on a bench in the hall to wait.<p>

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the door was ajar, and she could not help but overhear Nerean and Ryan, telling the tale of the earthshake. She felt a moment of shame; she did not want her father to know how very frightened she had been.

"Your daughter will be a truly great queen," Sir Ryan had said after the description of the event itself. "She was terrified, we all saw it –" Here Eliza had felt tears coming to her eyes before Ryan even finished his sentence, but they evaporated as he continued, "but she never once let it get the best of her. She acquitted herself most wonderfully, sire. She saw to it that all injuries and damages were assessed and taken care of. Any man would be proud to serve such a queen, who will not let her fears come before her kingdom."

"Indeed," came Nerean's voice, "her terror, while obvious to those close to her, was not, I believe, even noticed by most. What the rest saw was a kind and tender heart, a brave young woman who will care always for her people."

Unable to hear more praise that she felt was undeserved, Eliza had stood then and walked away, stepping as softly as she could manage. She had begun crying again; perhaps they had not realized the extent of her terror, or wished to shield her father from that knowledge.

Now, though, as she sat remembering that overheard exchange, Eliza wondered if they had been right. She had been truly terrified, but she suddenly recalled that one little moment, when she saw the sheer panic on the faces of the two farmers. A moment where she had specifically chosen not to let fear take control.

* * *

><p>Seated side-saddle on a magnificent white gelding, Eliza looked radiant in her blue gown. The trumpeters gave a great fanfare as she rode around the jousting field, moving far more sedately than she would have liked. But ceremony was ceremony; the people would hardly be able to see their Crown Princess if she galloped through, and besides, in this dress, she wouldn't be able to sit astride the horse without showing her legs up to the thigh.<p>

She smiled and waved. The cheers and waving pennants of the common folk began to infect her with a fierce, joyful pride. She had only been ruling at her father's side for a year, and already they supported her so strongly! Many of the peasants were waving flags painted with the royal standard: a golden ewer pouring a white liquid into a golden chalice, on a checkerboard of blue and purple. It symbolized the prosperity of the kingdom, as well as the blueberry wine, brandy, beer, and other such beverages as provided that prosperity.

Just as many persons in the crowd carried her personal standard: a white-winged red dragonfly on a field of blue and green waves. Looking closely, she even saw a few bearing her mother's standard, which was a purple fairy with dark grey wings perched on a silver crescent moon, displayed on a solid white background. Her eyes welled just at seeing it; she smiled and gave a gracious nod to those individuals.

When she had made her way around the field to the center of the wooden stands, where the royal family sat for tournaments, Sir Ryan and Doctor Nerean stepped forward to help her down from the horse. A groom held the reins, leading the gelding away once the princess was on the ground.

Eliza looked up at her father, Ryan on one side and Nerean on the other. Both man and faun bowed to the king, then turned to face Eliza. They then each went down on one knee and bowed their heads to her. She curtsied deeply to her father, holding it for several moments while the musicians played the traditional stately chords. When she stood, she twined her arms through Ryan's and Nerean's for them to escort her up the steps. They led her to stand before her father's large, padded chair, and then took up their places on either side of the chair next to the king's. Owen stood; the crowd grew silent. Eliza knelt at her father's feet, her head bowed.

"The Princess Eliza has been found worthy!" King Owen cried proudly. The crowd let out a great cheer, but quieted again as soon as a page brought the Blueberry Diadem on a pillow of purple silk. The king took the tiara in both hands and placed it carefully on Eliza's unbound hair. The crowd waited with bated breath.

Eliza stood then, and another page with another silk pillow brought the scepter. She put both hands out, palms up, and her father placed the scepter into her hands. "I'm so proud of you," he said softly, for her ears alone.

Turning gracefully, Eliza moved to stand at the railing in front of her father's chair. The trumpeters gave out a joyful noise, and the king cried, "I am honored to present to you, the people, your Crown Princess!" At his words, Eliza took the scepter in her right hand and held it proudly aloft. The crowd erupted in cheers, whistles, and a great waving of flags. After a long moment of this, Eliza stepped back to sit beside her father. The crowd cheered on as the various knights of the kingdom began to ride out onto the field. Sir Ryan, who was to joust today despite all efforts to convince him otherwise, took his leave to go and join them.

As a crier began to introduce the knights in flowery speeches, Eliza turned to her father. "Must I really stay up here with you, Father? You know I get bored just watching all this."

The king smiled. "My sweet daughter, you have just been crowned as the heir to my kingdom. This celebration is for you. I can hardly let you go out there and tilt against trained knights."

"But Father, I'm good with a lance. I can catch all the practice rings in each round nine times out of every ten!"

"But no one is pointing their own lance at you. Practice rings are one thing, they don't fight back. But to go up against a knight? I could never let you do it."

"I've beaten Sir Ryan," she grumbled.

Owen sighed, suppressing a flash of anger. So Ryan had allowed to her face him on the field, had he? He could only hope that the aging knight had purposely allowed Eliza to win, but knowing the man's training style, Owen was not so sure. It was bad enough that Ryan had taught the princess to fight with swords and daggers, to use a bow, and to catch the practice rings with a lance. But Sir Ryan was not here right now; the king's ire would have to wait.

Once the knights had all been introduced, they lined up before the royal box. Eliza stood and removed a long piece of gauzy material from her sleeve. She stood at the railing again, this time without her scepter, which Nerean was holding for her.

She had agonized over this decision; she didn't want to give anyone the impression that she had chosen a suitor, but tradition required that the heir to the throne must present a token to one of the competing knights. It seemed a silly, out-dated notion; after all, why should a male heir have to offer a favor? Favors were generally reserved for ladies to show their support of their chosen knight, often with the implication that the lady was romantically interested. Perhaps later she could ask her father; he would have gone through this very ceremony. And if he had been permitted to joust in it, well, she might have a few changes to make to this ceremony once she became queen.

When she had come up with the answer to her problem, it had seemed so simple and obvious. "Sir Ryan," she called, pitching her voice so that it would carry out to the peasants as well. He came forward and bowed his head. "You have been a great friend and advisor to our king," she said. "You have taught his daughter many skills, and taught her well, without showing unwonted favoritism. And you have shown your loyalty to King Owen time and again. I offer this favor to you, in honor of your good heart. I pray you will accept it."

"It is my honor," Ryan said gruffly, an edge of tears in his voice.

Eliza smiled, affixing the scarf to the blunted end of his lance. She then announced, "Let the jousting begin!"

* * *

><p>Mike hadn't had much information when he returned later that evening. The mayor had proclaimed that she would make sure the mines were made safe and then paved over. But she had failed to specify what use she intended to put that paving to. Neither Paige nor Mr. Gold had been able to make any sense of it.<p>

As he walked Paige home, Mike couldn't help but notice that she still seemed unsettled. He wished he knew what to do to make her feel better, but he was at a loss. He had worried briefly about having to go in to work tomorrow, and then he remembered that Paige would be working as well. He feared that the first collapse might have destabilized other parts of the mines; who knew when a second collapse could happen? At least he knew she wouldn't have to spend the day alone.

* * *

><p>Paige was unusually subdued at work the next day; she had had nightmares all night. Some were about her mother, others about earthquakes. A few even combined the two.<p>

She had knelt down to clean the glass on the customer's side of the display case set into the counter at the back when another collapse happened. Mr. Gold was standing behind the counter, reorganizing some of the objects in that case. Paige fell to a seated position, pressing herself against the case as if it could save her. Mr. Gold staggered, only keeping his feet because he leaned his upper body over the case and grabbed the far edge to steady himself. When the shaking stopped, he could hear Paige gasping for air.

Michael had warned him of this last night; she was hyperventilating again. He picked up his cane off the floor and made his way around the counter as quickly as he could. With an effort, he got down on floor next to her. Her eyes were wide with terror, staring around the shop.

Incongruously, Mr. Gold noticed that not nearly as much had fallen this time. He turned and put a hand on Paige's shoulder. He knew that she didn't like him; no one here did. It must be some kind of residual memory carried over from the other world. But he had come to grudgingly respect this young woman; not many could continue to carry on after all that she had been through.

He was surprised when she did not hesitate to fling herself into his arms. She buried her face against his chest, shaking like a leaf. Her breathing slowly started to calm down as he stroked her hair and whispered comforting words to her.

The shop door opened.

"Is everyone alright in here," Ruby called. She had been out visiting Billy before her shift was to start, so she'd been walking back to Granny's when the tremor struck. She knew Paige worked for Mr. Gold, but she had no idea if she was working today. With his leg, Gold might have fallen and hurt himself. Much as she disliked the man, Ruby could not, in good conscience, walk past his shop without making sure he was okay.

When she saw Paige trembling in Mr. Gold's arms, she ran in. "Oh, gosh, is she okay?" Ruby knelt by Paige and Mr. Gold, putting a hand on Paige's back.

"She has a phobia of earthquakes, but she'll be alright," Mr. Gold answered. Paige's breathing was still somewhat ragged, but much calmer than before. She was still shaking and clutching at his suit, but her grip had relaxed a bit.

"Are you sure?" Ruby didn't entirely trust the man.

"She's much calmer than she was a few minutes ago. But you should run along and check on your grandmother," Mr. Gold said. "With that heart attack she had not too long ago, I'd be worried about her if I were you." He always pushed peoples' buttons; it was second nature to him.

Ruby's eyes widened. Before she could respond, Mr. Gold added, "And her worrying about your whereabouts isn't going to help any."

"I'd better go," Ruby said, leaping up and rushing to the door.

Before she could leave, Mr. Gold added one more barb. "Thanks so much for checking on me, though, dear!" He smiled sinisterly over Paige's head as Ruby gave him a confused glance and rushed out the door.

* * *

><p>As Paige was leaving that evening, she stopped, already halfway through the door. <strong>Thank you,<strong> she signed back at Mr. Gold, who was standing behind the counter.

"For what, Paige," he asked.

**For... for being there for me. For helping me.** Her hands moved hesitantly; she didn't like having to thank him for anything. But knowing someone was there for her when she needed it was an overwhelming and comforting feeling. Even if it was Mr. Gold.

"Don't mention it," he said.

His knowing, devious smile was too much for Paige, who rushed out the door and started home, walking very fast.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode, "That Still, Small Voice"

And yes! Paige remembers her fairy-tale past! I'd explain why she remembers, but that might spoil the impact in a later chapter… (PS – there has been one small clue that she remembers in each of the previous chapters – can you spot all three?)

In case anyone is interested, the middle initials shown on the gravestones stand for "Frederick" and "Maria" respectively.

Although it has only been hinted at so far in the show, for the purposes of my story, Mr. Gold definitely remembers being Rumpelstiltskin. **I do no know if this is ABC's intention; this is my own interpretation, for the purposes of my story**


	5. S1 Ch5 - When You Need A Friend

As usual, I do not own the show or ABC's characters...

Beginning with this chapter, there will be some texting involved. Text messages are shown like this: [I know! ;-)] and are maybe less full of text-speak than some people might expect, partly because i don't use a whole lot of it myself and partly to make it more easily understood.

Prepare yourselves for another long one! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Eliza woke to the sun streaming through her windows. She yawned and stretched; it was unusual for her to sleep this late, but yesterday had been her 21st birthday, and last night's masquerade had gone well into the early hours of the morning.<p>

Rolling over, she snuggled deeper into her warm blankets; this late in the fall, her bedroom was seldom warm in the morning. When she heard the door creeping open, she thought about pretending to still be asleep, but she knew she shouldn't indulge herself too much. So she sat up, stretching some more.

It was Nerean who was peeking in to see if she was awake. His jacket was immaculate; how long had he been up already? Looking at her clock, she saw that it was nearly 10 o'clock in the morning.

Eliza shook her head. Fauns must have hardier constitutions than humans. When Eliza had finally gone to bed around 4 in the morning, Nerean had already been thoroughly drunk, and still drinking. Being a bit of a curiosity to the nobles, especially the young men, they frequently challenged him to drinking competitions. Despite the tales from their elders about his ability to hold his own, they still seemed to believe that they would one day win. Eliza sometimes wondered if they thought that age was getting the better of him, or if they simply thought themselves better drinkers than their fathers and uncles.

The truth was, Nerean could win contest after contest against the young noblemen, even when challenged by several of them consecutively. The king had once told Eliza that he had never heard of anyone coming close to drinking Nerean under the table. And no matter how much or how late he drank, the faun was always up before the sun, his clothing perfectly arranged and with all his wits about him.

He seemed a bit agitated this morning.

"What's wrong, Doctor," Eliza asked, failing to stifle another yawn.

"Well, Princess, your father, he has left the palace. We all were begging of him to wait, at least until you should waken up." Watching his face, Eliza could tell that, as usual, the doctor was blaming himself. Nerean, clear-headed but with an unshakeable sense of guilt, continued. "He has thrown himself into the hunting of a white deer, of which have come to the palace many rumors. He was taking only a few retainers with him, and would not speak his plans as to the length of his absence."

"Thank you, Nerean," Eliza said, throwing back the covers. She shivered, but did not hesitate to get up. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she let one of her maids put a dressing gown over the thin shift she slept in. The robe was for warmth rather than modesty; as the royal physician, Nerean had seen her in much less than a flimsy nightshift.

Eliza's cheeks reddened as she thought of last night, remembering the two men who had captured her interest. The first had been a womanizer, she was sure, but still, as an innocent princess whom no man dared to womanize; his attentions had been quite flattering to her vanity. The second had not been quite so erotically fascinating, but had also treated her like a woman and not as the heir to a throne. Both had somehow known who she was, and both men had also left before anything could happen. She would have gladly dallied with either one last night. Now that the morning sun shone through the windows, a part of her was glad her resistance had not been put to the test, but another part wanted to know what a man's face would look like when he beheld her in nothing more than this filmy nightshift. It was that thought, her imagination of the heat and desire in a man's eyes, that made her blush.

Nerean looked at her questioningly, but she pretended not to notice. She sat down at her vanity table and began to brush out her hair. Her two maids stood anxiously by; they did not feel it proper that the Crown Princess should brush her own hair, but neither was it appropriate for them to argue with her. She had told them that, if she should pick up the brush herself, then she wanted to brush her own hair and they should leave her to it. They didn't like it, but they respected her enough not to make a fuss.

"It was five years ago yesterday," Eliza said softly, meeting Nerean's eyes in the mirror. "It's hard on Father. That's why he's throwing himself into the hunt. He always finds something he can distract himself with once my birthday is over. Hunting works best for him." Eliza was sad that he had not even waited to say goodbye, but he would be back in a few days, and perhaps if he was in a good enough mood, she could request that he at least say goodbye to her before leaving in the coming years. Even if he had to waken her to do it, she would not mind. But perhaps her face was difficult for him to bear. Looking in the mirror, she could see many similarities between her features and the small painting of her mother that she kept on one end of the table.

The doctor noticed Eliza's sudden melancholy; looking more closely, he guessed she was comparing herself to her mother. "Your father loves you muchly, Eliza. Your face, it cannot change that."

"But it's not always easy for him; there's so much of her face in my own. She was his soul mate, Nerean. She was everything to him. And I'm the reason she died," Eliza said, the tears beginning to fall.

"Weep not, precious girl," soothed the faun, moving to stand behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "It was I who failed to save her. It was Paul who would not turn in the womb. It was you who were making the choice, and it was your father who agreed with you. We all are bearing blame, and we all are shamed by it, but try to be thinking upon the prophecy. This was fate, no matter how much guilt we are heaping upon ourselves. I know it is not removing the pain, for I still cannot help but ask what I did not do correctly. The knowing of it to be ordained by higher powers is but a small help in easing our blaming of our own selves, but it is better than no easing at all."

Eliza put a hand over one of Nerean's, tears running down her face. She had never heard the faun talk like this about something he blamed himself for. It made her respect him all the more.

* * *

><p>The little bell tinkled as a young man entered the shop. Mr. Gold came out of the back room to see who it was; he had only just sent Paige out for some supplies he needed. She wouldn't be back just yet.<p>

"Mr. Gold, I have a letter for you. It's from the council, you'll have to sign for it," the young man said, holding out his clipboard. "And I'm also looking for a Miss Paige Cygnus, I understand she's an employee of yours?"

"My only employee, actually. And I'm afraid she had to step out for a few moments. I'm her legal guardian; I can sign for hers as well."

After Mr. Gold had signed for both letters, the young man handed them over and left the shop, taking a deep breath after the door was closed behind him. He only knew Gold by reputation, and he felt a certain sense of relief to have gotten away so easily, as it were. Thank God the man hadn't made him wait for the girl.

Inside, Mr. Gold opened his letter. When he saw the contents, he knew that Paige's letter would contain the same information. Taking both letters into his office, Mr. Gold decided to make a few phone calls while Paige was gone.

* * *

><p>When Paige returned with the supplies she had been sent for, she was surprised not to find Mr. Gold in the back room, where he had been working when she left. She put the bags down on an empty corner of his worktable and went to check his office.<p>

Mr. Gold was on the phone. He glanced up at her and distractedly shooed her out of his office with his free hand.

Paige wondered what was wrong. The look on Mr. Gold's face in that moment before he realized she was there was pure frustration. She hoped he wouldn't be in too bad a mood when he finally emerged from the office. With nothing else to do, Paige picked up a can of furniture spray and a soft rag. She might as well dust something for the time being. In the cluttered pawn shop, there was always something that needed to be cleaned

She only hoped that the newspaper was correct in saying that the mines had been checked and there was little to no danger of further collapses at this time. The past two days had been terrifying.

* * *

><p>"Paige, can you come here for a moment?" asked Mr. Gold, leaning out of his office. It hadn't been much more than half an hour since she had returned.<p>

She went through the curtain to the back room to set her cleaning supplies down out of sight of potential customers, then went hesitantly into his office. He looked very serious; for a moment Paige wondered if her father was okay.

When Mr. Gold handed her a letter, she felt her mouth go dry. Would they send a letter if her father… She couldn't even finish that thought, but she felt the nursing home would call her, or more likely call Mr. Gold due to her handicap, if anything had happened.

She was relieved to find that it had nothing to do with her father, but she still had to read it twice to grasp its meaning.

**The council is summoning me to a guardianship hearing next week? Why?** She was shell-shocked; even after her meeting with the Mayor about a week or so ago, she had never thought that something like this could happen so soon. After all, she had only had a few therapy sessions; why make her start therapy if they were going to make their decision almost before her sessions had started?** Why is it a big deal if I don't socialize as much as most other people? **She thought for a moment, remembering that Mr. Gold had been on the phone when she arrived. **What's going to happen at the meeting?**

"Well, as you've gathered, I made a few calls about this. It seems likely that the council will vote to revoke your right to live on your own. They feel you haven't made a place for yourself in this community." His mouth straightened out into a thin line as he pressed his lips together. "There doesn't seem to be anything we can do about it, unless we can somehow convince the council otherwise," he said, sounding as if that were an impossible task.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin cut an odd figure, sitting in a rustic boat that was rowing itself through a swamp. He wore a fine, dusky gold outfit more suitable for a ball than for travel. He saw an island with a square light shining; it was the window of a rustic house. He smirked as the boat angled toward it.<p>

On the island, 28-year-old Lilura sat outside of her mother's cabin and sighed, staring at the late-autumn stars. She did this every clear night, hoping for a shooting star so she could make her wish. But never once had a star shown any interest in detaching from the night sky, not even a tremble. She feared she was doomed to grow old on this tiresome island, trapped forever in that miserable, leaky old shack her mother called home. Suddenly she realized that she'd been hearing the sound of water lapping against the wood of a boat for some time; was someone really coming this way?

She jumped up and ran to the water's edge, her haste making her fingers clumsy as she tried to light her lamp. When the wick finally caught, she raised the small lantern and peered out across the water, which now flickered with little reflections. "Is someone there," she called softly. Her mother had always told her never to speak with strangers, for they could be witch-hunters, but Lilura could not resist.

"Just me, dearie," came the lilting reply.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she cried, delighted to finally meet the man her mother had spoken of. True, her mother loathed him as well as admired him; Rumpelstiltskin's prices were notorious for being distasteful to pay. The old hag would not speak of her deal, except to say that she had gotten what she wanted.

"You weren't by any chance hoping to have a wish granted?" he asked in a smooth, knowing voice. Lilura still could not see her guest, though the shadowed shape of a person in a boat had begun to appear at the edges of the lantern's pool of light.

Rumpelstiltskin stopped the oars from rowing with a small gesture, letting the boat's momentum carry it to the bank, where Lilura held up her skirts and kicked off her shoes, placing her bare feet carefully as she waded into the cold water to grab the rope coiled in the front of the little boat. Wading back with equal care, she tied the rope to the large iron ring in a post that stood a few paces from the water's edge. As Rumpelstiltskin stood up in the boat, he was surprisingly graceful; even Lilura herself, born in the swamp, could not make it look that easy. He gave a little leap onto the bank. Looking into the boat, Lilura saw a mask, but it was upside down, so she could only see the black silk that would be against the wearer's face.

Before she could do much more than wonder where he had been, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Tell me what it is you want, dearie."

"I want out of here. I hate this place, this swamp. I want a palace."

"Does it matter which palace," the little man queried.

"I want to marry King Owen. His wife is dead, and now I want him."

"He doesn't want a new wife, silly girl. What would he need one for, anyway? He has several children already; it's not like he needs an heir to the throne." Rumpelstiltskin smirked at her.

"I can take care of those children," she said darkly.

"And how would you manage that, dearie? He's got them well-hidden."

"I will find them. Somehow, I will. And when I do, I will use the most powerful spell my mother has taught me, and then it shall be _my_ son or daughter who will next sit on that throne," she said, as if she were speaking a vow.

"Ah, your mother. I trust she's doing well? Not regretting our little bargain, is she?" Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his hands together, smirking slightly as he glanced briefly at the shack.

"I don't know; she won't speak of it." Lilura was silent for a moment. "What did she ask of you? And what was the price for it?" She had always been curious.

"That's between your mother and me," he replied, "but suffice it to say that you wouldn't be here today if she hadn't found me." He smiled deviously when he saw that he had only whetted her curiosity. "But enough about that, let's get down to business, shall we?" He pronounced the word 'biz-ih-nes' instead of the usual, two-syllable articulation.

"Can you make the king fall in love with me?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh, no, no, no. Magic cannae make someone fall in love. Infatuation, obsession, sure, but do you really want that? I've made many a deal with persons wanting to be rid of someone who was obsessed with them," he said, with a significant tone in his voice.

Lilura's face fell. "Well, isn't there some way you can make him marry me?"

"Well, now, that can certainly be arranged, but first let's discuss your payment," he smirked.

Her hopes dashed again, Lilura realized she had nothing with which to pay him. Although… "I can satisfy your needs, Rumpelstiltskin," she said in what she hoped was a seductive voice. She reached out to caress his face, but found her strength of will lacking, so she stroked his hair instead. "I am well-versed in the pleasures of the flesh," she insinuated.

Rumpelstiltskin grabbed her offending hand, squeezing it painfully. "You have no idea what my needs are, dearie," he whispered, enjoying the pain and fear on her face. When he let go of her hand, she clutched it carefully to her stomach. It felt like he had almost broken some of her bones! She never saw him raise his hand.

He slapped her hard across the face, so the she fell to the ground on the bank, her pale brown hair falling across the dark, chilly mud at the water's edge. "And never, ever lie to me, you stupid little girl. Your little friend would have stopped visiting you the moment you had lost your innocence." He turned on his heel and stalked over to the post where his boat was tied.

"No," she cried, "Please don't go! I'm sorry! I have nothing else to pay with!"

"Yes, you do," Rumpelstiltskin replied, sounding angry as he turned back to loom over her.

"What is it you want? My mother owns my shadow, and my soul is promised to those from whom I receive my power. My firstborn? But I cannot offer that unless I can be assured that there will be second child! My child _has_ to take the throne!"

"And why is that, girlie?" Rumpelstiltskin sneered at Lilura, who had sat up, but remained on the ground.

"It will be the first time in history that the spawn of a witch will legally inherit a throne. And that will be a great day for dark magic!" Her passion was obvious, but Rumpelstiltskin felt nothing but disdain for the cringing witchlet in front of him.

"And yet you will not offer me what I want," he muttered disgustedly.

"If you can guarantee a second child, I will gladly give you my first-born," Lilura cried, desperate.

"No, no, that's not what I want, witchling," he scoffed.

"What, then? I have nothing else." At that moment, Lilura's only friend stepped out from behind a tree, keeping as much distance as possible between himself and Lilura's impish guest. He was a small, shaggy black unicorn. Gasping, Lilura finally understood what Rumpelstiltskin wanted. "Gaudior? You want him? But I do not own him, he is merely my friend," she wept.

"Foolish girl," he smirked, "this unicorn has been under the, ah… care of your mother's family for generations. He is no longer interested in your mother, as she has clearly lost her innocence, but he will always belong to your family. When you have a child, he will befriend it, especially if you have a girl. Unless, of course, he no longer belongs to you by then."

Lilura sat on the chill ground, staring at Gaudior. He had never told her that he belonged to her. But she could see in his eyes that he did not like to discuss it; perhaps he was ashamed of being owned. Or, Lilura realized, her eyes widening with shame, perhaps some ancestor of hers had entrapped him somehow.

After a moment, Rumpelstiltskin added, "By the way, dearie, for such a worthy payment, I will also provide you with a way to find the king's children." Although Lilura had not asked for his help on this matter, he didn't want to give people any excuse to say that he had overcharged so very grossly on this deal. Even a normal unicorn would have been too great a payment for simply arranging this marriage. But a black unicorn was far more precious, and besides, Rumpelstiltskin already knew who would trade with him for this creature, and he needed that trade desperately. He watched the emotions flow over Lilura's face as she stared at the unicorn. Tears ran silently down her cheeks as she struggled with the temptation he had placed before her. But her confusion and pain began to bore him.

"Time is running out," Rumpelstiltskin sing-songed. "I've got better things to do than stand around in a swamp, watching a pathetic little witchlet cry for her pet."

Could she really say the words? She saw the reproach in Gaudior's eyes; he did not want to go with this vile little man. But her dreams were within reach.

After a long moment of trying to apologize with her gaze, Lilura said simply, "He's yours."

"Excellent!" cried Rumpelstiltskin, producing a contract out of an inside pocket of his fine jacket. "You must get into this boat; it will take you where you need to be. The king will have thrown himself into the hunt so single-mindedly that he shall be lost. He will find you at sunset tomorrow. You will offer to show him the way out of the swamp in exchange for his hand in marriage; if he gives you any difficulties, remind him that this place is enchanted so that none may leave that do not know the way. Show him the boneyard if you must." Here he produced a golden cuff bracelet, a little less than an inch wide and fashioned to look like scales. "And this will help you find the king's brats." He explained how it would work, "If you wear this with the scales pointing toward your thumb, it is simply a bracelet. But if you turn it the other way, it will show you the path to the king's children, but only if you can find the very place from which the king himself starts out. Once there, do your little spell and make your way back to the castle."

"However!" Rumpelstiltskin cautioned, stabbing a finger into the air to emphasize his point, "if you should fail to eradicate _all_ of his children, the king will find out what you have done, and your dreams will die." Leaning down with a hand by his mouth as if telling a secret, he said, "And if that should happen, dearie, well, that's a risk you've taken upon yourself." He lowered his hand. "I'm giving you your chance, witchling; don't come crying to me and wanting your little pet back if you haven't got what it takes to make use of it."

"I – I," Lilura's voice almost failed her. She cleared her throat to try again. "I understand," she said shakily, too ashamed to meet Gaudior's eyes.

Without another word, Rumpelstiltskin handed her the contract and the quill. She placed the parchment on her lap and signed her friend away, then handed quill and contract back to the smug little man standing over her.

"On with you, then," he said cheerfully. The rope began to untie itself as the boat bobbed, impatient to be on its way. With a last look at her house and an odd, tender urge to say goodbye to her mother, Lilura leaped up and jumped into the boat, which was already easing away from the bank. She was too preoccupied to notice that the mask she had seen earlier was now gone. She stared back at the unicorn for a long moment, tears streaming down her cheeks, then turned her face to the dark waters that lay before her.

Rumpelstiltskin watched the boat drift away, waving at the unresponsive form of the witch with a mocking smile on his face. Once it was out of sight, he turned to the pitiful shack. "Well, now, dearie," he said, seemingly to no one. "I'll be needing that necklace."

There was no response from the lit window of the shack.

"As soon as you let that man touch you, you forfeited ownership of that little token," he remarked, smirking slightly. "It passed to your daughter the very moment she was born. Yes, in those few hours just before you met me, you lost even your guardianship of that charm."

The night remained silent.

"Your ungrateful little brat jumped at the first opportunity to leave you to rot in this swamp, without so much as a fare-thee-well. And as her price, she signed away her little pet. That trinket belongs to me now." After a brief pause, he continued, his smile sinister and his voice especially threatening. "Do not make me retrieve it for myself. You wouldn't like that, dearie."

Silence still reigned, but a shadow flitted across the lit window. A small vial, wrapped in silver filigree so it could be attached to a cord around the neck, was flung out the window. Rumpelstiltskin caught the vial easily and examined it. The silver had been shaped into a unicorn's head along one side of the small vial. The dust inside sparkled with every color of the rainbow. It resonated in Rumpelstiltskin's hand; this was definitely the dust that had been ground up from a small chunk of Gaudior's horn, the charm that kept him captive to mere mortals.

Rumpelstiltskin turned back to the small unicorn. "Don't look at me that way. I find your company as distasteful as you find mine." The unicorn gave a soft neigh, much more delicate than the sounds any normal horse could make. "No, as a matter of fact, you don't have to come any closer to me." With this, Rumpelstiltskin and Gaudior disappeared in two separate puffs of glittering black-and-gold smoke. Once it had cleared, the shutters on the cabin's brightly lit window were slammed shut.

* * *

><p>When Paige got home, Mike was waiting for her on the porch. His copy of the letter that she and Mr. Gold had received was in his hand. He didn't realize that he was nervously twisting and untwisting the letter as he searched Paige's face.<p>

Paige sat down on a wicker chair on the porch. Unsure where to start, Mike sat in the other chair, still watching Paige.

**Mr. Gold made some calls when he got the letter. I guess to some of the council members, I don't know.** Paige stopped signing, lost in thought.

"So…what did they tell him?" Mike prompted.

**It doesn't look good. He said they told him that I haven't 'made a place for myself' in the community. Because I'm not as social as they seem to want me to be.** Bitter tears coursed down Paige's cheeks. **I don't even understand how that's possible. There are plenty of people in this town who barely even shop for groceries and only talk to one or two people.**

Given that he worked at the grocery store, Mike knew exactly what she meant. "Of course, most of them are batty old people," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige smiled wryly. **Sometimes I feel like a batty old lady,** she replied. **Seriously, though, being social is a matter of personal preference, not a reason why a person should or should not have the right to live on their own. It's ridiculous.**

"I couldn't agree with you more. But I do have to add that you don't seem like the type to be antisocial by choice."

**Well, not really, I guess. But how can I make friends with people I can't even talk to? **Paige sighed heavily. **I can't help but wonder if this is the Mayor's doing.**

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike asked. He didn't really know Regina Mills as a person, but she was a decent mayor. When he had gone down to the mines after the first collapse, he had been impressed by her calmness and her intention to turn the area into a useful part of Storybrooke.

**Well, let's face it, she and Mr. Gold have been enemies for as long as anyone can remember. He takes care of me, speaks up for me, so I guess I'm on her hit list simply by association. Maybe she thinks that by hurting me, she's also hurting him.**

Mike blinked. "I never really thought about it that way before. You might be right, Paige."

**Yeah, but right or wrong, that doesn't change the situation. My hearing is in one week. How are we supposed to change anything in such a short time?**

"I think Doctor Hopper will be on our side," said Mike. "And we could ask Ruby if she would be willing to speak on your behalf. In fact, let's go to Granny's for dinner; if Ruby's there we can ask her about it."

**I guess it's worth a try, **Paige signed. **Let me just change my clothes.**

* * *

><p>After dinner, Mike and Paige stuck around at Granny's, waiting for Ruby to take her break. Paige had never realized that there was much of a nightlife at the diner, but around 7:30, some people started coming in for drinks. There was a man in the corner still wearing a work shirt that read "Leroy" on the chest. The Sheriff and Sidney Glass from the newspaper sat together, and even Dr. Hopper came in with a balding man who seemed to be a good friend of his, which surprised Paige at first, until she noticed that the therapist was nursing the same drink while his friend ordered another.<p>

A little after 8, Ruby finally brought out a plate and sat down at their table. She smiled brightly at both of them and asked what they wanted to talk to her about. While Ruby ate, Mike summed up the situation.

"Okay, so Paige is a ward of the city because she can't talk. They consider it an 'inability to effectively communicate,' and so she has to have a guardian, which is Mr. Gold. When I was teaching Paige sign language, she told me that she dreamed of one day living on her own, so we started figuring out how to do that. In the end, the council made me her secondary guardian, and Mr. Gold gave her a job, so she could rent the other half of the duplex I live in. But now, it seems like the council is worried because she's not social enough, whatever that means. Now there's going to be a hearing in one week to decide if they should revoke her right to live on her own."

"Oh, man," said Ruby, "that sucks!"

"So we were hoping you would be willing to speak on her behalf," Mike continued. "I mean, you don't have to say you're good friends with her or anything, just tell the council that she's friendly, or not shy, or – I don't know. We just want to try to prove to the council that it's just a – a language barrier, I guess. But we want to show them that she should have that right."

"Wow." Ruby seemed a bit overwhelmed. Then she smiled almost uncertainly at Mike and Paige. "I'd be glad to help."

**Thank you! **signed Paige.

"What does that mean," Ruby asked. "That thing she just did?"

"That's 'thank you' in sign language," Mike answered.

"You're welcome, Paige. I think I can kind of understand what you're going through. A little bit, anyway. People kind of…put you in a box, and then it's really hard to get them to see you without that label." Ruby looked a little sad.

**You have a good heart, Ruby. Anyone who can't see that is a jerk.** As Mike translated, Paige put her hand on Ruby's. It was obvious that they both knew what it felt like to be on the wrong side of stereotyping.

Ruby smiled. "We should hang out. Go shopping, or something."

Paige returned her smile. **I'd like that.**

After translating, Mike added, "It might be hard finding a day when all three of us are off."

"Mike, shopping is a girls-only event," Ruby said, stifling a laugh.

"But…you can't talk to Paige without me," Mike said, confused.

Ruby pulled her phone out of her pocket. "It has a notepad function and a qwerty keyboard, or if she wants my number, she can just text me," Ruby teased. Paige's mouth dropped open in wonder. She had never even thought of texting!

Mike felt a little off-balance; even though he wanted the best for Paige, he had never actually considered the possibility of her having friends aside from himself and Mr. Gold. Just thinking that made him feel ashamed. He watched as Paige punched in the number Ruby recited. As soon as Paige had added the new contact, she texted Ruby.

[Hey! i'm really excited about shopping, it's been a loooong time for me! LOL!]

Just then, the Sheriff got up and pulled the darts out of the dartboard. Mike stood up, saying, "Paige, will you be alright if I go talk to Graham for a bit?"

Paige nodded, and Ruby said, "See what I mean? Boys _hate_ shopping!" She rolled her eyes, laughing. Paige laughed too, but silently.

Mike left the girls to discuss when they could get together. They watched him walk over to the sheriff to ask if he would teach Mike how to hit a bull's-eye. Paige's smile faltered a bit as she realized that Mike had a crush on the sheriff! He wasn't flirting or anything; Mike was far too careful for that. But he was definitely interested.

Paige realized that she had to be careful so that Ruby wouldn't realize what was going on. So she texted her new friend, [Lol, i think he's just trying to impress me!]

Ruby smiled. "You really are a lucky girl, Paige. Mike's really hot!"

Blushing slightly, Paige's text answered, [I know! ;-)]

"Ooh," Ruby teased, responding to the winking face in Paige's text, "what have you two been doing?" When Paige only blushed more, Ruby laughed. Checking the clock on the wall, she stood and said, "Well, I have to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything while Robin Hood over there tries to impress you, Marian!"

Paige laughed silently and nodded as Ruby put her apron back on and cleared away her plate.

* * *

><p>At about 10, Paige was staring morosely into her cup of hot Chai tea. Mike was still getting pointers from the sheriff; left with only her own thoughts for company, Paige couldn't help but contemplate her seemingly inevitable move back into Mr. Gold's house. A tear slowly ran down her face.<p>

Suddenly, a man was standing by her table. "You poor girl," he said in an Italian accent, "you look so sad. Is everything alright?"

Paige looked up; it was Doctor Hopper's companion. As Paige looked over at Mike, she realized that he had not yet noticed her predicament.

"What, do I frighten you so that you cannot speak? I do not mean to," the man said kindly.

Before Paige could figure out what to do, Archie noticed where his friend had gotten to and joined him. "Marco, this is Paige. She's one of my patients," he said. "Paige, Marco." Addressing Marco again as the two men slid into the booth to sit across from Paige, he said, "Paige is mute. She can't speak. Normally she's with a translator, but it looks like he's over there trying to learn how to impress her." He indicated Mike, who had just thrown a dart that nearly missed the board itself, let alone the center. "Um, maybe we can get a pen and some paper from Ruby," Archie mused aloud.

Just as Paige reached for her phone to text the doctor, an all-too-familiar voice said, "Ah, Paige! When I saw young Michael through the window, I thought you might be here too." Mr. Gold smiled at Paige and her two companions. "So lovely to see you making friends, my dear," he remarked. Then he took the strap off his shoulder to hand Paige a violin case. "Here's that violin I promised you a few days ago. What with the collapses at the mine and then today's terrible news, I kept forgetting to get this out for you."

"If you don't mind my asking, what terrible news?" asked Archie.

"Ach, it's sad, really," frowned Mr. Gold as he maneuvered himself to sit next to Paige, forcing her to slide over. "The council has summoned Paige for a hearing, and it seems like they're going to revoke her right to live on her own."

While Mr. Gold explained this, Paige set the violin case on the table in front of her, taking care not to knock over her tea, which was now in front of her guardian. She opened the case and lifted the protective fabric off the violin. The instrument looked just as beautiful now as it had when she had first discovered it during inventory. She stroked her fingers across the smooth, shiny wood next to the fingerboard, and touched the slack strings.

"Can I see," Archie asked. Paige lifted the violin out of the case so she could close it. Smiling, she held it out so that both Archie and Marco could look at it.

"But the strings, they don't look right," said Marco. "Are they stretched out of shape?"

Paige put the violin on top of the closed case so she could sign to Mr. Gold, who then translated for her. "She says that if a stringed instrument is going to be stored for a long time, the strings should be purposely loosened a wee bit. It apparently makes it less likely that they will break when you want to play it again."

"Will you?" Marco asked Paige. "You can play it, yes?"

Paige nodded, but then gestured uncertainly to Mr. Gold. "She says she hasn't practiced since she outgrew her… half-size violin." He was confused at first, but then decided 'half-size' must refer to a smaller violin meant for teaching children to play. Paige was still signing, so Mr. Gold continued, "Apparently her mother bought her one when she was young, along with a practice book, and she basically taught herself." He smiled at Paige's modesty as he translated, "She says she wasn't very good when she had to stop, so she'll be even worse now."

"Still, I would like to hear it if you wouldn't mind," Marco requested.

"Yeah, I'd like that, too," said Archie encouragingly.

Paige signed to Mr. Gold before picking up the violin, looking at it consideringly.

"She says it's been awhile, but she was always able to tune it without needing a note. She's willing to try. She was teaching herself to play _Für Elise _when she outgrew the half-size."

While he was translating for her, Paige had already begun to tighten the pegs. Every so often she plucked the third string from her left as she faced the violin. When she was satisfied with its sound, she worked on the other strings, sometimes placing a finger onto a particular spot on a string to see if it would make the same sound as the next string to the right, which she did not press down.

Soon she seemed satisfied, and handed the instrument to Archie, who held it like he was afraid it would break if he breathed on it the wrong way. She opened the case and took out the bow and a chunk of rosin wrapped in a cloth. She twisted the knob on the end of the bow, tightening the bowstrings. When she had gotten them as tight as she needed, she drew the bow up and down across the rosin several times before putting the amber-colored object away.

Archie handed the violin back to her. Taking the neck of the instrument in the same hand as the bow, she slid the case over in front of Archie and shifted herself until she was kneeling on the bench, to give her elbows room so she wouldn't bump the table or the back of the bench.

She tucked the violin under chin and drew the bow across each of the four strings, one at a time. Her expression was intent; as she drew out the highest note, she winced slightly and put the bow down to adjust one of the tiny pegs near the end that she then tucked back under her chin. She repeated the exercise, this time smiling in satisfaction. She could still tune it without a note!

Before starting to play in earnest, Paige did a few scales to remind her of the fingering. Then, after thinking hard, Paige realized that she only remember the first half of the first page of the sheet music. But it felt so good to play again that she decided it didn't matter. As she readied the bow, she never even noticed that everyone else in the diner had stopped what they were doing to watch. Even Granny had stepped out of the kitchen to watch from behind the counter.

Paige closed her eyes in concentration for a moment. When she opened them, she began to play. Everyone in the diner had some level of familiarity with _Für Elise_, and when Paige drew out the first notes, many of her impromptu audience smiled. She played softly and almost hesitantly at first, making mistakes, but as she continued she grew more sure of herself, and fewer of the notes went sour. Even with the repeated sections, she felt like it was too soon to stop when she reached the end of what she could remember.

"Why do you stop," asked Marco as Paige lowered the instrument. She leaned over the table to lay the violin on top of the case again so she could sign to Mr. Gold.

"That's all she remembers," he translated.

Paige suddenly realized that everyone was staring at her and blushed furiously.

Everyone had been touched by the sweet, plaintive yearning with which she had played. She wasn't a prodigy by any means, but her passion for the instrument was obvious, and helped to make up for the imperfections of the performance.

"Even that sounded kind of sad," Archie remarked thoughtfully.

"Well," said Mr. Gold, "she _is_ facing a rather unpleasant hearing."

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Marco asked.

"I don't believe there is," Mr. Gold answered. "If only there were some way we could prove to the council that she is capable of socializing," he mused meaningfully. After a moment of silence he stood, saying, "Ah, well, I need to be getting home. Good evening gentlemen." He turned to Paige, who was lovingly putting the violin away. "I'll see you in the morning Paige." Without waiting for any return farewells, Mr. Gold left, smiling deviously.

Marco watched him go, scowling slightly. Even though he had just witnessed Gold doing something nice for once, he still felt an unshakeable distrust for the man.

* * *

><p>Owen answered a knock on his door. The inn had rooms that were meant for nobility, which meant that there was a room connected to his own for his manservant, but the man was still downstairs sipping wine and leering at the serving girls. As long as he looked but did not touch, Owen had no problem with the man's behavior.<p>

It was that young woman from the swamp, Lilura. She smiled suggestively, knowing that the king was alone in his chambers. "My king," she purred, "why can't I sleep in here with you?" She closed the door behind her and sidled up to him, pressing her slender body against him.

He swallowed hard; he felt the temptation, but there was something about this girl that he didn't trust. Besides, she wasn't much older than Eliza. But whatever the reason, he was disgusted by his easy capitulation to the girl's price for showing him the way out of the swamp. His hand in marriage, indeed. Whether she wanted nothing more than the prestige of being queen or had a darker purpose in mind, Owen resolved to do everything he could to put this marriage off until she slipped and showed her hand.

The king grasped Lilura's shoulders and pushed her gently away. To the witch's delight, he had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak. "If you are to be my queen, we cannot have any talk of impropriety. There are those who would insinuate that we married for necessity. That is why you cannot be alone in my chambers with me. And once we reach the palace, we must wait a respectable time before marrying."

Lilura pouted. "But Owen, I want you," she whined, putting her hands on his chest and leaning in. With a deft thought, she used a flick of magic to untie the belt of her robe, so when she stood back, the garment hung open.

Owen swallowed hard; the girl wore not a stitch under that robe! He couldn't stop his eyes from tracing the contours of her body. It had been so long for him… "No, Lilura," he said, breathing heavily. "I cannot hear any ill spoken of my queen."

When he used the word 'queen,' he thought only of Aenor, intentionally imbuing the word with fondness so that Lilura would believe his reluctance was weakening. He had to get her to let her guard down if he wanted to find out what she was up to.

Once she had left him alone, with whispered insinuations that she would be alone in her chamber all night, unable to sleep for being so near to him and yet so far, Owen pulled out the letter he had been writing. He had suspected the knock would be her, so he had hidden it under a stack of books. There was even a second, different letter that he had started, a much more innocent letter to fool the girl in case she happened to see it. He put the false letter aside to finish the true one.

My dearest Daughter,

I write to inform you of my return. However, there is a price for it. In my hunting I went too far, being maddened with my grief. I found myself in the Swamp of No Return, and it was too late for me. But then I was approached by a young woman scarcely older than yourself, offering to show the way. But her assistance was highly priced, for she would agree to nothing less than becoming my new queen.

As you well know, I have no wish to replace your mother. But I could not leave you alone like this, so I have agreed to pay her price. But I fear danger from her, perhaps even the very danger Aenor's prophecy warned of. For this reason, I must ask you to go back to the manor before I return to the palace with her. I intend to put off the wedding for as long as possible, using propriety as the excuse. I have told her I will not suffer talk of a marriage of convenience, and I hope not to marry her at all. But if I must, I will, for I cannot go back on my word.

Show Ryan and Nerean this letter; for they must take care of the palace staff. I want no word of my children spoken where Lilura can hear. The number of children I have must never be mentioned, for she does not seem to know it. She has pressed me for that information, which is what leads me to fear her intentions toward you and your brothers. If they must mention you, they are to refer to you only as "the King's heir," or if they start using your title, they must amend it to say "Crown Prince" in the stead of "Crown Princess." I wish to confuse her as much as possible. And if the subject of how your mother died should arise around Lilura, I wish it to be implied that Paul did not survive either. If Ryan and Nerean should fear the loyalty of any member of palace staff, arrange to have them sent to the Royal Retreat to ready it for my supposed honeymoon.

It grieves my heart to send you away again, but I will visit as often as I may. There was so much I had meant to ask you. Please, inform Nerean if you have any wish to see the Prince of Peacocks again. For I must confess, Daughter, that I have been meddling in your affairs again. I would like to see you happy in the way I was happy with your mother. So I arranged his visit; the young man is none other than Prince Andrew, brother of Tristan, who is King of the kingdom that borders upon the Wolfswood. I am not trying to betroth you, sweet girl, I simply wanted you to meet with him and decide for yourself. There is already a betrothal agreement drawn up and waiting to be signed, of which Ryan can give you the details, but I want you to feel no pressure to choose Andrew as your suitor. If you wish, I can arrange for you to meet with him again, or if you do not wish, I will send word to inform him that he is free to seek arrangements with another.

My heart is heavy to have to place this burden upon you through parchment, but I cannot let you come to harm, so I do not know when I will see you next. I pray it shall be soon.

With more Regret than a Father's Heart can bear,

Your Loving Father

* * *

><p>Eliza's eyes filled with tears as she read her father's letter. How could this be happening? But as she packed her things, she thought of the masquerade. The letter certainly explained how one of her two foremost admirers had known her identity. The Prince of Peacocks had been the second man, not the womanizer, fortunately. She felt she could have talked with him for hours. She resolved to have Nerean ask her father to arrange another meeting with the prince – without the masks this time.<p>

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold was rearranging a display when he heard the bell on his door. Looking up, he saw Paige, who looked stunning in a modest black dress. The hem hit her lower legs about halfway down her shapely calves, and the dress didn't show nearly as much cleavage as he would like to have seen, but it fit her well and complimented her body.<p>

After hesitating a moment, Paige signed, **What do you think? Will it look okay for the hearing?**

"It looks lovely on you, Paige," he said, leering a bit.

Knowing what he was thinking, she did not step too far from the door.** Well, **she signed, **I just wanted to ask you a favor. The hearing is in three days, and I was hoping you would be willing to open late that day so we could attend the open council meeting instead of having the private hearing.** Mr. Gold raised an eyebrow as he frowned slightly. Paige knew very well that he didn't like to change his hours for anything. **It's just that all those people who heard me play at Granny's say they want to speak to the council for me. They want to show the council, and Mayor Mills, that I am capable of making friends and being social. **Paige had rehearsed this speech several times while shopping with Ruby today, but it wasn't until Ruby was about to drop her off at the pawn shop that Paige realized she should mention the mayor. With his animosity toward her, Mr. Gold might be more likely to agree if Paige pointed out that this would mean that he had essentially won this battle with Regina.

**Mike made a few calls yesterday, and we can't bring 'witnesses,' as they called them, to the private hearing, but since anyone can attend an open council session, witnesses would be allowed.**

"Well, I don't know, Paige. You know I hate to change my hours, especially on such short notice."

**Don't answer tonight, just think about it. Please? **Her hands trembled; she hated having to beg, but perhaps that would cater to his vanity enough to tip the scale in her favor. **We can make the decision tomorrow.**

"Very well, Paige. I make no promises, you understand, but I'll consider it."

Paige thanked him profusely before walking home.

* * *

><p>[Hey, ruby, just wanted to let you know i got home safely!] Paige texted.<p>

[Good! I worried about you walking home in the dark] came Ruby's reply.

[And thanks for taking me shopping! I had so much fun!] Paige smiled to herself, realizing that, for the first time, she had a girlfriend she could go out with and share secrets with. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so happy.

[Me too! Omg, i should take you clubbing some time, that shirt you bought would be perfect for it!] Ruby texted back.

[Sounds like fun :-D] Paige had never been clubbing before, and from what she'd seen in the movies, she wasn't sure if it was really her thing, but she knew she couldn't turn down an opportunity to hang out with her new friend.

* * *

><p>The next day, Paige waited anxiously for Mr. Gold to bring up the subject of attending the open council session. But time moved very slowly for the first few hours of her shift, until suddenly it was time for her to leave. Mr. Gold had barely even spoken to her today! The hearing was the day after tomorrow; if they were going to change it from a private meeting to the morning session, they would have to let the council know, preferably today.<p>

Mr. Gold sat at his work table, seemingly engrossed in examining a wooden clock that had fallen during one of the collapses last week. He had been going carefully over every item to assess the damage; this clock was one of the last items to check. But although he sensed Paige standing near him, she was off to one side rather than across the table from him, where she usually stood. He suspected she liked having that physical barrier between them, so it was odd that she chose not to use it now.

He couldn't help smirking to himself. He knew she was agitated because he had intentionally allowed her anxiety to build today, barely even acknowledging her presence. He had not forgotten her request, but it amused him to let her think he had.

Finally he sat back. No major damage to the clock, just a few scratches in the paint. He could take care of that easily. Then, after rubbing at a kink in his neck, he pretended he had just noticed her standing there, saying, "Oh, Paige, I'm sorry. I assumed you had left." He turned on his chair so he was facing Paige. "What can I do for you?" He smiled wickedly, enjoying her discomfort.

**I was wondering if you thought about what I asked you last night.**

"Ah, yes, that," he said. "After due consideration, I'm afraid not. I can't just change my hours on a whim."

**Please, Mr. Gold, I'm begging you,** Paige signed, desperate.

"I am sorry, Paige, but when you think about it, what's really in it for me?" He started to smile apologetically when Paige stepped closer to him.

She hesitated a moment; Mr. Gold looked up at her questioningly. Then she got down on her knees and showed him what was in it for him, doing something he had never before been quite brave enough to try to make her do.

* * *

><p>"Well, I'll just call the head of the council and let him know we won't be needing a private hearing, shall I?" Mr. Gold said to Paige a little later, smiling. Her cheeks bright red from her embarrassment, she thanked him and went into the bathroom to wash her face.<p>

When she emerged, Mr. Gold said, "Well, that's all taken care of. Oh, and by the way, I've been meaning to ask you to pull out that monstrosity of a lawn ornament – that ridiculous windmill? Pull out from the back of that shelf. It needs to be cleaned off, and I think once that's done, we should put it at the front of the shelf; maybe then someone will actually buy it." He smirked. He needed that windmill to be prominently placed for tomorrow evening. "Can you make sure to take care of that first thing in the morning?"

* * *

><p>From her hiding place, Lilura watched as Owen pulled out a ball of yarn and dropped it on the ground. It bounced away, followed by the king and a well-cloaked youth that Lilura assumed must be the king's heir, brought out of hiding to learn to rule a kingdom.<p>

In spite of all her attempts, she could find no one in the palace to bribe for information. She had been in the palace for five long months now, and the king still claimed propriety whenever she asked about their upcoming marriage. She gave a soft growl of frustration. It was those children of his. They stood between her and her happiness, but now that she had found the spot where the yarn's magic began, she would be able to find them and finish them.

She wasn't sure if the king had five or six children; she could not discover if the last one had survived the difficult birth. So she would make six charms, so as to be properly prepared. She marked the location in her mind; the stone bridge had not been repaired in some time, which she thought was surprisingly clever of Owen. To repair a bridge on a road that had not been used in decades would be a dead giveaway that something important lay out here. Lilura had not thought much of the king's intelligence, but perhaps that faun of his had suggested it. Fauns were known for their clever minds.

* * *

><p>A few weeks later, Lilura returned from "visiting her dear old mother in the swamp," feeling very pleased with herself. There were, indeed, six boys hidden at the manor. She was glad her mother had always taught her that to be over-prepared was to be successful.<p>

The next day, she couldn't help but smile as the king set out to visit the manor in the woods. He would find himself without an heir, now. She took special care in preparing herself for Owen's return; now she was his only hope for a new heir. She expected to be married within the week, and possibly carrying his child sooner.

She watched his party return later that day. They looked agitated. Lilura looked into her mirror, practicing once again her concerned and caring expression.

She was shocked when the king's party entered her room. One of the knights threw back her hood. Lilura had never seen this red-headed female knight previously, but before she knew what was happening, the knight said, "It was her, Father! She turned my brothers to swans!"

As the true knights grasped her arms, Lilura gaped. There was no daughter! She had heard the names of all six of Owen's sons, even the one who might have died at birth, despite the staff's caution. There had been no mention of a daughter! As one of the knights called this girl the "Crown Princess," Lilura felt helpless tears falling down her cheeks. She had been so sure! She had even overheard one of the maids being punished for mentioning the Crown _Prince_! How could this be happening to her?

It was Eliza who suggested the best sentence. Dr. Nerean, who, being a faun, could use certain magics, examined her mind and discovered, almost by accident, how much she hated the swamp she had come from. So Nerean manipulated Lilura's memory. Not only did she no longer remember the way out of the swamp, but if anyone tried to teach it to her again, she would forget it instantly. She was exiled to the very place that had driven her to devise this plot.

* * *

><p>Ruby, who had been at the council meeting along with everyone else, ran into the diner first. "Granny!" she called.<p>

When Granny appeared, she didn't even need to ask. Ruby's face was lit up like a Christmas tree, and the rest of the group was just entering, all smiling and congratulating Paige. They sat down and ordered lunch, fighting over who would buy for Paige. Granny put that argument to rest by announcing that Paige's food would be on the house.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold had gone on to open his shop. Aside from the fact that he had no interest in celebrating with the rambunctiously happy group, he also knew that they didn't particularly want him along. It didn't matter; they had done just as he wished. He smiled as he unlocked the door; people were so easy to manipulate.<p>

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

In the episode "That Still, Small Voice," Mary Margaret mentions that David is being released from the hospital in "a week." The very next episode, "The Shepherd," opens with his coming-home party, so clearly a week has passed between the two episodes. This chapter starts the day after the second collapse in "That Still, Small Voice," and spans that week between to include "The Shepherd."

As far as the Storybrooke timeline goes, it's not always easy to be sure how much time there is between episodes. It's not always mentioned. I am going with the idea that the first five episodes happened in an approximately two-week period, making for a total of three weeks between Time starting again and "The Shepherd." Paige's meeting with the mayor happened during "The Thing You Love Most," and since Paige receives the letter on the day after the last events in "That Still, Small Voice," it's been about a week and half since that meeting when Paige receives the letter. **I do not know ABC's true timeline, I am merely estimating. This timeline in Storybrooke is solely for the purposes of my story!**

The name Gaudior (pronounced gow-dee-or) was taken from the fantasy novel, _A Swiftly Tilting Planet _by Madeleine L'Engle. The name is Latin, and means, "more joyful." Ms. L'Engle found it a good name for a male unicorn, and when trying to name Lilura's companion, I couldn't get it out of my head, so I am using it in homage to an author I admire. **I am not in any way, shape, or form affiliated with Ms. L'Engle or her publishers. I am simply inspired by her "Time quintet."**

While Lilura's mother is a hag, Lilura is merely a witch. For the purposes of my story, a hag is a woman who is born with her own magical powers, but chooses to use only the darker magics. A witch, on the other hand, is born with the ability to use magic, but must find a source for her powers. Lilura has clearly found a source, to which she has promised her soul in exchange for her powers. And perhaps her failure stems from the fact that her mother owns her shadow, and therefore has some measure of control over her…

When Ruby calls Mike Robin Hood, it is meant only as a joke. Mike is NOT Robin Hood. If he were, then his fairy tale name would not be Prince Andrew. Just wanted to make sure that was clear.

The day before the hearing is the day when David sees the windmill in Mr. Gold's pawn shop – the very day Mr. Gold has Paige dust it off and put it at the front of the display!

And for those of you wondering, YES! We will see Eliza's masquerade! It will actually be in the next chapter!

* * *

><p>Reviews are like friends: you can never have too many!<p> 


	6. S1 Ch6 - Masquerade

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's show or characters

I had a ton of fun writing this one - so far I think it's my favorite chapter!

And just fyi: so far, I am still only using the combination of the Grimm fairy tale "The Six Swans" and the Hans Christian Anderson tale "The Wild Swans." They are essentially the same story, but with differing details. I have pulled some details from both versions, and then added my own twists and expansions on the lives of the characters.

I have one storyline in mind that, if I use it, will introduce a new fairy tale, but I'm not sure whether that one will come up or not... don't worry, if I use it, I will be sure to let you know!

And by the way, it's another long one... Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"<em>Death is a refined gentleman, dressed all in black trimmed with gold, and in his cap are two fine feathers, one brown, one white. When he comes for you, if he touches the white feather you go to your ancestors, but if it is the brown he chooses, you must purge yourself of your transgressions before you may have your eternal reward. If he touches no feather at all, then he has not yet come to claim your soul, so take heed and mend your ways."<em>

_~old proverb about Death, well-known throughout Eliza's kingdom, Tristan's kingdom, and the war-torn kingdom between. Source unknown._

* * *

><p>Doctor Nerean smiled at Eliza's exuberance. She was all but bouncing on her toes, explaining her latest idea. Since her father had taken Sir Ryan and some of the other knights out to inspect their border, it fell to the good Doctor to help Eliza plan the celebrations for her 21st birthday. She had decided upon a masquerade.<p>

As he listened to her explaining about the guessing game she had thought of, he hoped his good friend Owen was having no delays. Since the border with their war-torn neighbor did not require much attention, it would be suspicious if the king were gone too long. So far Eliza suspected nothing, and Nerean intended to keep it that way.

They were luckier than Tristan's kingdom; Owen's border was largely protected by a steep cliff with a treacherous river at its foot. Where the cliff fell away, there were only a few miles of flatter land, with the river, while less turbulent there, still serving as a barrier before that river spread out into the Swamp of No Return. A few guard posts were kept along the cliffs, but it was that area of open land with its gentler river that was most concerning, even though there had only been a few attempted raids.

"And only I may open the correspondences; I don't want anyone knowing even a few of the costumes," Eliza continued. "Otherwise they would be able to narrow it down. I intend to baffle everyone. Well, everyone except Father, of course, he won't hear of me keeping my costume a secret from him. But he will not participate in the guessing game; he promised me so." When there was no reaction from faun, who seemed deep in thought, she asked, "Nerean, are you even listening to me?"

"I listen and listen again, yet hear only the wind howling through the cave," Nerean replied, shaken out of his musings.

"Oh, you! Is that another faun saying? What, a way to tell someone that you're too distracted by your own thoughts to pay attention? Or does that mean I'm not important enough to listen to?" Eliza could not entirely hide the smile behind her pretense at irritation.

"Well, now, Eliza, you _are_ wishing everyone to dress in costume, yes?"

She nodded, saying, "Of course."

"Whatever shall I wear," the faun cried in mock-seriousness. "So heavily this question weighs upon my mind!" Eliza could not hold back her laughter; she was well acquainted with that twinkle in his eye.

"I suppose it's not called 'taking the goat' for no reason," she teased when she could breath again. She wondered if the phrase really had originated from the mischievous humor of fauns.

"Ah-ha," Nerean cried, "a thrice-curled genius you are being, Eliza! I shall come as a goat!"

Eliza, her plans forgotten for the moment, laughed so hard her sides began to hurt. She hadn't the breath to ask, but assumed that 'thrice-curled' referred to a faun's horns. She supposed that, as a faun grew older, his horns curled further and further around. Doctor Nerean's hadn't quite begun a second spiral. Perhaps fauns, like humans, believed that age was an indicator of wisdom.

* * *

><p>The middle-aged man hurried around the desk to greet Noah and Mike. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to Greensmountain Heights. I'm Doctor Horne, I'm in charge here. You would be Michael and Noah Cochran, correct?"<p>

"Yes, Doctor. I'm Noah, and this is my brother Mike." The doctor shook hands with both brothers.

"Mr. Gold came here personally to speak to me on your mother's behalf," Doctor Horne said. "Now, I don't know if you are aware, but we don't consider this place a nursing home or an assisted living facility. We call it an elderly assistance facility. We often take in patients that other places will not. Everything from the nearly comatose to those who have active hallucinations and delusions. We offer therapy sessions to any patient who wishes it. If the family wishes their loved one to have therapy, we will do so, but the patient is free to cease taking therapy if and when they wish. We do not force therapy on anyone. We do not prescribe any kind of drugs; that is for the patients' physician to do. But whenever we can, we try to help our patients work through their troubles. We can't make them all happy, but we do everything in our power to try."

Doctor Horne truly cared about his work. He lived to try to make his patients' remaining time on this earth as pleasant as possible. Mr. Gold's arrival had been timely; there had been a recent cut to a city assistance fund that Dr. Horne depended on. If he hadn't found another patient, he would have been forced to lay off one of his employees. Not only did he fear that losing a valued staff member would lower the quality of the care his establishment could give to the patients, but losing a staff member would feel like losing a part of his family. True, they didn't all get along all the time, and one in particular was more troublesome than the rest, but that didn't mean he wanted to be forced to put someone on the unemployment line, especially with autumn beginning. Dr. Horne had no doubt that he would owe Gold a favor down the road, but that was to be expected.

Just then, a woman came into the office, looking slightly frazzled.

"Ah," said Dr. Horne, "this is Marsha Sanford. "She's one of our primary care nurses. Marsha, I'd like you to meet Noah and Michael Cochran. Their mother, Desdemona, may be joining our facility quite soon."

She smiled and shook their hands with a few polite words, then filed the reports she had brought in with her. Then she rushed back out again.

"Well," Horne resumed, "I have a questionnaire to fill out regarding your mother's overall physical and mental health. Let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Ruby coughed; Paige had been digging around this old storage unit for the better part of an hour already. "Is there something I can help you look for?" she called to Paige, who was digging her way through a pile of boxes in the back corner of the unit.<p>

The dust was thick; Mr. Gold had arranged for these things to be brought to one of his storage rentals after Paige had been made a ward of the city, almost seven years ago. With her father in the facility and Paige unable, at that time, to live on her own, the house had to be sold. It was only Mr. Gold's intervention that kept the bank from selling it as it was, complete with all of Paige's things, and her parents' things, still inside it.

She supposed she should be grateful for his assistance, but the one thing she had been specifically looking for did not seem to be here. There were only a few boxes left that she hadn't checked; she prayed to find it. She had often wondered if Gold remembered his previous life; if he did, then he might very well have hidden, taken, or sold the item she sought. She didn't dare ask him about the item without knowing whether or not he remembered. If he knew the truth, she didn't want him to know that _she_ remembered everything.

She pulled the last stack of boxes toward her when she finally found the item she was looking for, tucked into the corner behind the stack. An antique spinning wheel, one of the smaller ones often referred to as an upright, or castle, wheel. Her mother had bought it at a yard sale before Paige was born. Fayette had no interest in spinning herself, but Jude had just talked her into buying a small house that was built like a rustic cabin. Displaying a spinning wheel had seemed the perfect way to add a homey, more feminine touch to the house.

Paige could almost hear her mother's voice telling that story. She sat down and just stared at the wheel for a long moment before sneezing violently. Paige only hoped that this thing was actually functional.

"Are you okay back here," Ruby asked, squeezing between a stack of boxes and large armoire.

Paige grinned up at her, pointing at the spinning wheel. She pulled out her phone to text Ruby, [This is what i was looking for. It was my mom's. She loved the look of this thing. I can remember her telling me the story about how she found it…]

"Did she know how to use it," asked Ruby, curious. Aside from the story everyone knew about Sleeping Beauty, Ruby didn't know the first thing about spinning wheels.

[No, she just wanted it as a decoration. I'm not even sure if it works. Our house kinda looked like a log cabin, and mom thought this would give the place a feminine touch.]

Ruby smiled wryly, wrinkling her nose a bit. "Yeah, I've always thought log cabins were more for hunting and man stuff like that. I can see why she'd want to make it look a bit more girly."

Paige smiled back at Ruby.

"Well," the dark-haired girl sighed, "let's get this thing in my car. Was there anything else you were looking for?"

[Nothing in particular, but i guess we should take a few of these boxes. I really need to start going thru all this stuff, figure out what i'm keeping and what i'm not…]

"Alright," Ruby said, helping Paige maneuver the spinning wheel out through the narrow paths between furniture and stacks of boxes.

[By the way, if you take that little alley by the church, it's actually a shortcut back to my place] Paige texted after they had gotten the spinning wheel out to the front of the unit.

"What's the matter," Ruby teased, "Don't you want people to see us together?" Although she seemed to be teasing, Paige was sure there was more to it than that. She didn't want Ruby to think she was ashamed of their friendship.

[I just didn't really want to go past the pawn shop. Some of this stuff is antique, and i don't want mr. gold to know what i'm doing yet. I want a chance to go thru and decide what i'm keeping without him pressuring me to let him buy anything. You know how he likes antiques.]

"Okay," Ruby replied uncertainly. "I guess I can understand that."

[Especially this spinning wheel. It seems like the kind of thing he'd be really interested in adding to his collection} Paige texted. She hoped Ruby wasn't getting too suspicious, so she sent another text. [Don't get me wrong, mr. gold has been wonderful to me. I'm just worried he'll try to talk me into selling something before i can decide what i do and don't want to part with.]

Ruby made a face when she read that last text. Paige seemed to be the only person in town who saw any good in that creepy old man. Ruby couldn't stand him. She hated that her grandmother owed him so much money, but after Granny's heart attack, there had been a lot of medical bills. They had almost had to close the diner since the bank wouldn't give them another loan. She supposed she should be grateful since it was only because of Gold's assistance that they had gotten the diner back on its feet. Still, there was something about the man that gave Ruby the creeps.

"Yeah, I get it. Don't worry, it's no problem." Ruby flashed Paige one of those beautiful smiles that could light up a room. "Let's load it up!"

* * *

><p>When Mike came back that afternoon, he called Mr. Gold before even checking on Paige and Ruby.<p>

"Hi, Mr. Gold, it's me, Mike."

He waited while Mr. Gold returned his greeting.

"I wanted to thank you for speaking to Doctor Horne for us. My brother and I both appreciated that."

Mr. Gold insisted that it was nothing.

"Well, it wasn't nothing to us, so thank you."

Gold gave up protesting and simply told Michael that he was welcome.

"We're taking her in tomorrow, but Noah and I wanted to clear out her apartment first, since she won't be going back there. We need to sort through all her stuff, figure out what to take with her and what to give away. We're to have her at the facility by three in the afternoon, so we wanted to head to the apartment around five or six in the morning. Hopefully that will be enough time to at least gather her clothes and anything else she'll need at the facility. The thing is, someone needs to be around for Paige until she has to leave for work. I guess I could ask Ruby, but I know you usually get up early, so I was hoping you'd be willing to come over for a few hours?"

Mike listened for a long moment.

"Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I'll tell her to be expecting you."

A much shorter moment passed this time.

"Great. Thanks so much! Bye!"

After Mr. Gold had said goodbye, Mike ended the call and walked across the porch to Paige's door. He hoped she wouldn't be too pissed off that he had volunteered her to get up so early and help Mr. Gold out.

* * *

><p>While Paige was trying to sleep that night, her phone went off. It was a new text message from Ruby. [OMG! Just saw the sheriff kiss emma outside granny's! Wonder what the mayor will say about that!]<p>

[Really? But maybe the mayor won't find out…] Paige texted back.

[Sidney glass from the paper is here, he saw it too. I'm surprised he didn't call her right away!]

Paige didn't answer. She wondered how Mike would react to the news. Provided, of course, she was awake enough to remember to tell him. She looked at the clock again, wishing she could fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Eliza's maids had pinned her hair up late that morning, after she had heard the few petitioners who had come to the palace today, and put on the black wig she had commissioned for her costume tonight. She had then spent the day in her chambers, with no one but her father allowed in or out. Her own hair fell past her hips, but this wig stopped halfway down her back. She hoped that the length and color would help to fool her guests, but she also had other plots in motion to keep people from guessing her identity. The afternoon was a test of sorts, to make sure that her red hair was pinned up securely enough that it would not be able to escape the wig during the ball.<p>

Her father had brought supper to her chambers himself, and had even stayed to eat with her. She had noticed that he couldn't stop staring at the wig she wore. With some difficulty, she'd resisted the urge to fiddle with it, as doing so could loosen the pins holding her own hair. So now, when the maids took the wig off, Eliza was pleased to see that only a few small wisps had escaped, and none of them long enough to be able to show. Her maids soon had those wisps pinned securely, and had checked for any loose spots so they could fasten those areas more securely as well. Then they put the wig back on, adjusting it carefully. The black hair was curly, something Eliza had always wished for her own hair. But her hair was straight and fine, and no matter what tricks her two ladies-in-waiting tried, the curls never lasted for more than half the day at best.

Normally, it would be her ladies-in-waiting who would do Eliza's hair and dress her, with the maids giving what assistance was necessary. But the ladies-in-waiting would be attending the masquerade, where the maids would not. Eliza insisted that no one know what her costume would be. Well, no one but her father; he had refused to remain in the dark on the subject.

Makeup was next; not much was needed since she would be wearing a mask. But even with the fine black mesh over the eye-holes of the mask, her eyes would still be vaguely seen, so they were outlined carefully, and the lashes darkened. Her lips were smeared with a concoction made of beeswax and certain essential oils and plant extracts; it would make her lips soft and a bit shiny without altering their natural color. Just above the right corner of Eliza's mouth stood a mole, the kind most refer to as a beauty mark. It was brown and raised, and had caused her no end of anguish in planning her costume. She did not want to wear a full mask, but that mole would give her away if she did not, and what was the point of a masquerade if she could not make herself anonymous? She had finally decided to flaunt the mole.

At her request, the royal jeweler had designed something to disguise it. False beauty marks were all the rage recently, and among the nobility, small gems were often put in a special setting that could then be glued onto the face. So Eliza had the royal jeweler devise a beauty gem, as they were being called, that was actually hollowed out on the backside. When glued atop her existing mole, it was exactly the same size as every other noble's beauty gem. Looking in the mirror, Eliza tried not to smile; the glue was not yet dry.

Eliza stood up. It was time now for her costume, which she had designed herself. First the maids helped her step into the strapless chemise, which was a pale gold and had been painstakingly embroidered up the front in brown and white. Eliza felt a moment of pride; she had done every stitch of that embroidery herself. Once the chemise was in place, the black gown, lavishly decorated with gold trim, came next. The entire front of it was open, and from her hips to her breasts it laced up; there was no modesty panel, just the top part of the embroidered chemise peeking between the gold laces. The black skirt swept to the floor from the two sides that laced together, leaving an upside-down triangle of the chemise showing. The gold trim down the edges of the black skirt seemed to frame the careful needlework Eliza had done on the chemise.

There were shoulderless sleeves on the dress, which only attached to the bodice under the arm. From the elbow to the upper edge, the sleeves were laced up tight along the outside of the arm. Below the elbow, they belled out to her wrists.

Once her maids had finished dressing her, Eliza strode over to her full-length mirror. The costume was perfect!

"Bring me my mask," she said. It was black with embellishments of gold trim. A gold brooch with a pearl and a diamond was affixed to the top center of the mask, with a spray of feathers rising from it. The feathers did not quite fit the description of the proverbial character she was portraying, but the mask hadn't looked right with only two feathers on it. But even slightly altered, the mask fit in perfectly with her vision.

The more senior of her two maids tied the mask around her head. "Is that too tight, your Highness?"

"It's perfect, thank you." Eliza knew that some of the nobles would be shocked to hear her thanking a servant, but Eliza had been raised to treat all people equally, no matter what their station in life. Besides, a servant who felt unappreciated could become an easy target for the bribes of one's enemies.

Eliza glanced over at her clock. It was a quarter 'til eight. The guests should all be in the ballroom soon, when the announcing would begin. Every guest would be formally introduced, not by their names, but by the name that went with their costume. Having each and every guest formally announced was mostly a means to prevent anyone from narrowing down the options as to which costume she wore. Eliza had made extensive plans to try to prevent anyone from guessing that the young woman dressed as Death was actually their Crown Princess.

* * *

><p>"Now," King Owen said to his guest, "Eliza will be dressed as Death." When the young man lifted an eyebrow, the king felt compelled to say, "I know, it seems an odd choice, but she's a free spirit, my Eliza. I'm supposed to be the only one who knows what costume she is wearing, so if you do reveal that you know who she is, I would ask you not to divulge your source until I've had a chance to talk with her. She's rejected every suitor I've tried to introduce. Some she wouldn't even speak to! So I don't want her to know just yet that I've had a hand in this. Do you understand?"<p>

"Yes, your Majesty," Prince Andrew replied, nodding his thanks to his manservant, who had just fastened the toggles on his jacket.

"You will arrive at about ten-thirty, when you will be announced. Whether you make for Eliza immediately or mingle for a bit, I shall leave up to you. But I would prefer that you not mingle overlong." Owen was surprised to realize that he was nervous. This betrothal would change everything for his kingdom, it was true, but what really got to him was the prince himself. Owen liked this young man, far better than any of the other potential suitors. He hoped that this could be the young man who would bring joy to his daughter's life. But if he was not, well, no betrothal agreement could justify a course of action that would deny Eliza the chance for love.

Andrew's manservant returned with the prince's mask; a gold, asymmetrical mask with a fringe of white beads dangling from one side and a spray of peacock feathers cresting the other side.

* * *

><p>Yawning, Paige wandered aimlessly through the trees and the underbrush. Mr. Gold had shown her a picture of the plant he was hoping to find, but Paige wasn't sure anymore that she could recognize it even if she saw it. She glanced to her left; Mr. Gold was still in sight. He wasn't looking her way, so Paige leaned up against a large tree to rest for a moment.<p>

It wasn't being in the woods that bothered her, she rather like the forest; nor was it the hour. She didn't usually get up as early as she had today, but she was no stranger to early mornings. It wasn't even entirely the company, although she wasn't too pleased about spending more time with the man than she had to. But he had come to her house that morning to pick her up, and now that she had the spinning wheel in her basement, she was paranoid that he would find it. She wasn't sure, but there was a good chance that Mr. Gold remembered his true past, and if he did, he didn't seem to be aware that she also remembered. That could turn out to be an important ace up her sleeve, although she couldn't yet see how. But one of the most important lessons she had learned in that other life was that information always had its uses.

"Tired of searching already, Paige?" Mr. Gold's voice startled her out of her thoughts. She jumped; he was only a foot away. How had he gotten that close without her hearing him? He stuck the blade of his shovel into the ground so that it stood upright. "You looked like you were miles away, dear," Mr. Gold added as he removed the gloves he was wearing and draped them over the handle. "Whatever were you thinking about?"

**Nothing, really,** Paige signed, trying not to act too flustered. **I was just kind of zoning out. And trying to remember what the picture looked like,** she added sheepishly.

"Well, never you mind about that, dear. I can look another time, there's no rush." He moved toward Paige, smirking as he eyed her up and down. Even though she was a heavy-set girl, she still had something of an hourglass figure, which her bulky sweatshirt could not entirely disguise. She tried to back away as he reached for her, but she had forgotten that the tree was right behind her. His hands were cold as he slid them up her sides under the sweatshirt. Paige shivered, her skin pebbling in the cold air as he removed the warm, over-large shirt and tossed it to the ground.

* * *

><p>Paige lay at the base of the tree, staring at the forest floor. Her eyes stared off into the distance as her breathing began to slow. Suddenly she heard the sound of a shovel on the other side of the tree. Wondering what Mr. Gold could be doing, she tried to get up, but found that her legs weren't working just yet. She had no choice but to lie back down and wait for her legs to recover.<p>

Mr. Gold was suddenly at her side, whispering in her ear. "I hear someone coming, don't move and don't make a sound. I'll come back for you as soon as he's gone."

Wondering if Mr. Gold actually knew it was a man, or was just using the word 'he' as a generic term, Paige started to look around for her clothes; if someone found her here, she _really_ didn't want to be naked. But Mr. Gold pushed her back down and shook his head, putting a finger to his lips. Paige realized that the slightest movement was causing the brush to shake and rustle, something that would certainly draw attention to her. So she lay still as Gold disappeared. She heard the shovel again as he finished whatever it was he'd been doing before.

Then she heard him stand up, saying, "Good morning, Sheriff. Sorry if I startled you."

Paige winced; the sheriff? She prayed he wouldn't realize she was there. She almost giggled hysterically when Graham said he had thought Mr. Gold might be a wolf.

"Did I forget to shave," Gold dead-panned. Paige bit her lip; why did the whole situation seem so hilarious?

She almost did laugh when Mr. Gold told the sheriff that he was doing a spot of gardening. They hadn't found the plant; how could he call this gardening? Although he had been digging just before the sheriff showed up; she had no idea what that was about. She took a deep breath as Graham told Gold that he had dreamed about a wolf, and then saw one here in Storybrooke.

Paige had to choke back another laugh when Mr. Gold paused after Graham asked if he had seen anything unusual. "I'm afraid not. I do wish I could be more helpful," Gold replied.

But her smile, and the seeming hilarity of her situation, died as Mr. Gold said, "You know, Sheriff, they say that dreams – dreams are…memories. Memories of another life." Was this her proof? Did he remember his past? When Graham asked what Mr. Gold believed, his reply was, "I never rule out anything." Paige felt a chill as Mr. Gold wished the sheriff luck and said that he hoped Graham would find what he was looking for. The wolf, here in Storybrooke? Was that even possible? She remembered the wolf's odd eyes. Surely something like that could not have translated into this world, though…could it?

* * *

><p>Paige shivered as she lay there, wishing she dared to move around enough to look for her clothes. She had curled up in a semi-fetal position, trying to keep as warm as possible. She couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Gold.<p>

She wished she could get away from him. She had hoped that moving out on her own would help, but she hadn't thought that plan through. She had never thought about finding a job to support herself. But at least she was no longer living in his house; she supposed that was a start.

But the only way she could really get away from him would be if he willingly stepped down as her legal guardian. Because of the deal she had made in her other life, she couldn't speak against him, so trying to get the council to declare him unfit was out of the question. She could never tell anyone the truth, which was why she went to great lengths to prevent anyone from finding out what he was doing to her. Mr. Gold also did everything in his power to make sure no one found out, but Paige assumed that had more to do with his reputation than anything else.

It was that aspect of the deal she made, the stipulation that she could express no ill of him to anyone, _by any means_, that made Paige suspicious. He had even specifically included writing and gesturing as some of those means of communication; did that mean he had foreseen that she would learn sign language? What other reason could Rumpelstiltskin have had to put that into their deal? If he was going to remember his true past once he was in Storybrooke, he would have known it then. But why did he want that part of their deal? Had he been planning on continuing to molest her in this world, and wanted to know he could do so without fear of repercussion? Or did he have some deeper purpose in wanting just one person in Storybrooke who would not speak out against him?

Paige heard someone, or perhaps some_thing_, coming in her direction. Knowing full well that she was giving away her position, she sat up and backed against the tree, folding her legs up in front of herself. If someone was coming, she would feel better being at least partially covered. She strained to try to see who was coming, praying it wouldn't be the sheriff. She couldn't imagine trying to explain this to anyone without raising suspicions.

When Mr. Gold appeared, she felt a mixture of relief and disgust. At least she wouldn't have to try to explain herself to anyone, but the weight of his eyes sickened her.

"Are you alright, Paige," he asked, putting a hand on her forearm. "Why, you poor dear, you're freezing." He leered at her, insinuating, "I can think of a few ways to warm you up."

Paige shook her head and scooted off sideways. When she put her hand down to steady herself, she found her jeans, folded neatly atop her sweatshirt. Her socks and undergarments were folded carefully atop her sneakers, next to the sweatshirt. She hurriedly began to dress herself, turning away so she wouldn't have to see Mr. Gold watching.

* * *

><p>"Oh, excuse me, M'lady Feline," Eliza said to a noblewoman in a full cat mask. "Let me just attend to your hair," she said, pulling the cat woman aside.<p>

"Oh, thank you," gushed the woman, never realizing that her hair was still perfectly coiffed. Eliza pulled a hair pin from a pocket sewn onto the inside of the black skirt to "pin up" a loose strand of the woman's brown hair. But when she was done, a strand of red hair now dangled down the side of the woman's neck, exactly where someone dancing with her or whispering in her ear could not help but notice it.

Three pins down, seven to go. So far Eliza had chosen women wearing full masks, but as she scoured the crowd again, she noticed a young blonde woman with a black velvet beauty mark glued just above the right corner of her mouth. Taking a glass of blueberry champagne from a nearby serving man, she began to stalk her next prey…

* * *

><p>Nearly half an hour later, all of her pins had been planted. Now ten random women were suddenly more likely than she to be guessed as Princess Eliza at the end of the night. Not only that, but they themselves would never guess her; she had intentionally imitated the manner of a lady-in-waiting from a family low among the nobility. They would never expect that from a princess.<p>

Finishing up her second glass of champagne, she surveyed the multitude that had turned out to celebrate her twenty-first birthday. A serving woman slid unobtrusively through the crowd, ever watchful for anyone who wanted to take or return a glass. She saw that Eliza's glass was empty and paused at her right hand for Eliza to put down the glass. Then she was on her way again, leaving Eliza to continue watching the people.

"May I have this dance?" came a delightfully accented voice from behind Eliza. She turned, her skirts swirling. He was dressed all in gold, with a half-mask that looked like a twisted gold face with a somewhat exaggerated nose. Even his skin had been painted a dusky gold, with just a hint of glitter. She felt like she should know what he was supposed to be, but it eluded her. "Ah," he exclaimed, "I see the old proverb lied. Death is a refined lady, instead. If only men knew, they would not fight so hard to live, I think." Eliza smiled, feeling both shy and pleased at the compliment. "Come, my Beautiful Death," the stranger said, almost too smoothly, "dance with me awhile."

Taking the proffered arm, Eliza let herself be swept out onto the dance floor. She kept staring curiously at the man's mask. Knowing she hadn't figured out his costume yet, he smirked as they danced.

Suddenly, she had it. "Rumpelstiltskin," she cried delightedly. "That's who you're dressed as!" That was odd; she didn't remember anyone responding that they would be dressed so.

"That's right, dearie," he said, smiling a devious smile. Rumpelstiltskin dressed as Rumpelstiltskin, and the best part was that no one would ever guess it. After all, if Rumpelstiltskin were to sneak into the masquerade, whatever the reason, surely he would never dare to flaunt his identity in such a manner. The glitter made the outfit seem even more like something a pompous nobleman might conceive.

"You're really getting into it, aren't you," she laughed playfully. "I've heard he calls people that!"

"Well, I suppose it's good to know I'm not the only one who has heard that," Rumpelstiltskin smiled back.

"Have you ever made a deal with him," Eliza asked, coyly pretending to be wary of him, as if she would stop dancing if he said yes.

"Of course not," he asserted, "I've never been that… desperate. And I think I never shall be, now that I've seen Death herself." He spun her, watching her long black hair fly out. Even without being able to see the flush in her cheeks, he knew he had embarrassed her.

"Good," said Eliza when they were face-to-face again. "I don't think I could stand to be around him, or anyone that's been tainted by him."

Rumpelstiltskin's smile deepened. If she only knew…

"Although," he countered, "if you steal my heart away tonight, I might have to make a deal with him just to see you again." As she smiled that shy, pleased smile again, he leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "Princess."

Eliza tried to shrug it off casually. "Whatever makes you think I could be a princess," she asked flirtatiously. She didn't realize that she was betraying herself by reaching up to feel at the edges of her black wig.

"No, dearie," he said softly, for her ears alone, "your flaming locks are still tucked safely away." She snatched her hand down as if she had been burned. "And it was simple, really." They had reached a part of the dance where he spun her out to one side and then back in again, but with her facing away from him; the next steps were danced in this position. "Any other unwed noblewoman would be accustomed to such male conduct at a ball. Not only flirtation from would-be suitors, but also ribald flattery from the type of man who would trip any unwary woman into his bedchamber, and the attentions of old lechers who simply want to feel a woman's body pressed against their own." As he spoke, he began to dance closer to her, pressing himself against her back. "Among noblewomen your age, only a princess would be so sheltered as to be completely unprepared for this kind of thing."

His hands, which had been resting on her hips, slid slightly forward so he could press her backside even more firmly against his body. Eliza's lips parted; she could feel him so intimately. Her body clenched in places she had never known it could, and it felt so good. She had always been taught that a girl should never get this close and informal with a man unless she was married to him. Now she understood why. It was so easy for the flesh to be seduced. If this complete stranger led her into a dark, empty room, she knew that she would not resist. Indeed, she would eagerly help him accomplish his indecent intentions. Even though she knew better, even though she usually did the right thing regardless of what she wanted, she knew this would be different. She would have her fun and worry about regrets and consequences later. It was so very tempting.

He spun her out to the side and then back again, this time ending up face to face again. As before, he stepped closer, pressing her impressive bosom against his chest. Eliza realized that he was right. In all her people-watching at other balls, she had seen this kind of conduct, but had never really understood it. At times she had thought that the noblewomen had perhaps encouraged it.

Now, neither of them tried to talk; this part of the dance contained several lifts. At the first one, Eliza felt her cheeks redden again; she hadn't considered the implication of lifts. They required the man to place a hand between a woman's legs and lift her up, then down. Then they danced a few steps before another lift, and so on. Eliza had done this dance many times, but always before, her partner was very respectful, keeping his face carefully blank. The stranger she danced with now did not, even though he knew who she was. His eyes burned into hers, and his lips twisted in a delightfully wicked smile that told her two things: not only did he know very well that he was touching her most secret parts, but he was also contemplating what it would be like to touch her there without any clothing in the way.

When at last the lifts were done, Eliza's breath would not slow. She danced far too close to this man, whom she knew she had never met before. Rumpelstiltskin's gaze greedily took in the desire in her veiled eyes; her slack mouth; her heaving bosom. For a moment he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her truly remarkable cleavage. She stared at his masked face, enjoying the predatory look in his eyes. She knew she shouldn't; this man was surely only after one thing. But it was the first time a man had looked at her this way: not as a princess or as the heir to the throne and therefore a potential path to power, but as a woman, and a desirable one at that. She had never felt particularly pretty before, but the ravenous heat in this stranger's eyes made her feel like she was melting into his arms.

Much too soon in Eliza's opinion, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Well, I really shouldn't monopolize you tonight."

"I don't mind," she whispered.

"Ah, but your father has been out of the room for a little while now; it won't be too much longer before he returns. And I dunnae think he would like the way I am dancing with you." He cupped the left side of her chin in his hand for a moment before trailing that hand down her neck and out across her shoulder. Switching to just his fingertips, he drew them back in toward her neck, but now tracing the line of her collarbone until he reached the center. She watched his mouth twist into a deliciously impish smile as he trailed his fingers down her chest until they touched that enticing line of cleavage. She gasped softly, wanting more.

"Mmm," he sighed appreciatively. "But I really do need to stop before your father has me beheaded," he said, smirking.

Eliza suddenly realized that he was the only person in the room who knew who she was. "Are you going to guess at the end of the night?" She was referring to the game she had devised, wherein the guests would all have the opportunity to guess which be-costumed woman was the princess. That competition was the very reason she had planted a strand of red hair on ten unsuspecting women. If this stranger did not stay by her side, she could not make sure that he didn't give her away.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be here that long," Rumpelstiltskin said, smiling suggestively. "But who knows, I may stop to converse with several people on my way out," he teased, knowing why she was asking.

"Will you tell them who I am?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not." His mischievous grin widened.

Without warning, Eliza leaned in closer and kissed him full on the mouth. It was a lingering kiss, but still rather chaste.

"If you want to buy my silence, you'll have to do better than that," he teased as she pulled away.

Eliza's only experiences with kissing were tender, chaste kisses like the one she had just given. But with this man, she wanted more, so she kissed him again. This time she let all her passion and her hunger for his touch show. When she felt his tongue against her lips, she moaned and opened her mouth to him. At first, she let him have control, but he was teasing her, not kissing her the way she wanted to be kissed, so she asserted herself and began exploring his mouth with her tongue. Sensing her eagerness, Rumpelstiltskin responded in kind. Their kiss was passionate, and their bodies were pressed tightly together as their hands roamed over each other.

Rumpelstiltskin, always in control, was very careful not to disturb Eliza's wig as he pressed a hand to the back of her head, holding her mouth against his. Then he suddenly pulled back. Both were breathing hard, but it suited Rumpelstiltskin's purposes – and his perverse sense of humor – to leave Eliza wanting more. "I have to go now, but I promise you, we will meet again one day, though you'll not recognize me." Eliza stood there catching her breath, still unable to speak. She had never been kissed so thoroughly in her life, and it made her head spin. "And don't worry your pretty little head, dearie, I'll not reveal your secret." With that, he turned and walked away, quickly disappearing among the crowd.

The Swamp of No Return was his next stop. Now that he had found what he was looking for, it was time to begin creating a need in her life. A need only he could fulfill. It would take a couple of years, but Rumpelstiltskin was a patient man.

* * *

><p>"Well," Mr. Gold said as Paige tied her sneakers, "I don't know about you, Paige, but I'm ravenous. My house is closest. Do you like crepes?"<p>

Paige nodded as she straightened up.

"Shall we, then," Mr. Gold asked, offering his arm for Paige to link hers through. But pretending not to see it, she crossed her arms and stalked off ahead of him, going back in the direction from which they had come earlier that morning. Gold smiled; he loved knowing just which buttons to push.

* * *

><p>While she waited for Mr. Gold to fill and heat the crepes, she wandered into his living room. The crepes themselves were already made. Mr. Gold had explained that the recipe made far more than he could eat at one time, so whenever he made them, he would freeze the unused crepes for another day. Today he was filling some with eggs benedict, and the rest with fresh strawberries in a sugary glaze, with powered sugar on the top. It sounded pretty good to Paige, whose stomach had started growling before they were halfway out of the forest.<p>

She was idly looking around when she noticed something new on the wall near the fireplace. It was a gold half-mask that looked like a twisted face with a somewhat exaggerated nose. There was a very subtle sprinkling of gold glitter on it that she hadn't noticed before, but this was the very mask that was worn by the first of the two men who had recognized her at the masquerade in her other life! What could it mean that it was now hanging on Mr. Gold's wall? There were many things in his shop that she suspected were connected to other people in town; perhaps this was just a coincidence.

"Ah, you like that?" For the second time today, she hadn't heard the man approach. "I found a box in my attic last week, full of all kinds of old memories. You know, I can't believe I ever put this one away, though. Ah, that one takes me back," he sighed, reminiscing. He glanced slyly at Paige, who was staring raptly at the mask. "You like it?"

Paige signed, **There's something about it that just…grabs me. I don't know why. **She knew she couldn't tell him that she remembered it. She fought harder than she ever had to control her face; he seemed to be implying that this mask belonged to him! She didn't even let herself think what that meant, for if she did, she might lose all semblance of control.

"Yes, it does have a certain something, doesn't it?" He smirked. "It's very visceral – primal. I wore that to a masquerade once," he said, watching for any change in her expression. When she turned to look at him, he looked fondly at the mask. "There was this one girl that I danced with – beautiful, she was. All in black and gold, flirted like a shameless hussy. I should have followed some primal instincts with her," he said, a very male smile on his face. Then he gave a start, pretending he had just realized what he was saying. "I apologize, Paige, it's not like me to speak so crudely in front of a lady." He searched her face for any hint of recognition, but Paige just looked embarrassed.

**Why didn't you…you know…with her?** Paige asked. She kept pushing away the thought that did not want to leave her alone. If this mask was Mr. Gold's, then she had kissed – no! She couldn't think of anything that might give her away! Now that she knew that he remembered, she would have to be extremely careful. She had little doubt that he would eventually find out that she also remembered the true past, but if possible, she wanted to control when that happened. She couldn't stop the blushes as she forced down her epiphany, but at least they fit in with the conversation she and Mr. Gold were currently having.

Not realizing what was going through Paige's mind, Mr. Gold smiled at her. "Even after everything we've done together, you're still so fundamentally innocent." He put a hand to her cheek. "It's quite fetching, you know."

Before Paige could move away from him, he removed his hand. He was amused when she rubbed at that cheek with her own hand, as if trying to erase the memory of his touch. "To answer your question, I can't remember why I didn't…you know…with her." His smile was partly mocking and partly intimate, which only made Paige blush more.

"Well, I came out here to tell you that breakfast is served," Mr. Gold said, "if you would care to join me."

* * *

><p>"Now arriving: the Prince of Peacocks!"<p>

It was half past ten; Eliza had thought that everyone was already there. But as she thought about it, she had received an anonymous correspondence with this as the title of the costume. In her excitement at the beginning of the night, she hadn't listened to the announcements as closely as she probably should have.

She moved to where she could get a better view of the grand entrance to the ballroom. A man was walking confidently down the steps, dressed in blue with peacock-feather accents. His mask was a pale gold, and asymmetrical. Where it came down to his jaw, only on the left side of his face, it bore a beaded fringe. Where the right side rose higher than the left, it was crested with a spray of peacock feathers. Not every man could pull off that mask, but the Prince of Peacocks wore it like a true prince.

Something about him grabbed Eliza's attention; she began making her way toward him, but slowly, stopping to talk to someone here and there, taking a glass of champagne from one servant and a bite-sized pastry filled with cream from another. She kept an eye on him all the while, making sure that every move brought her just a little bit closer to him.

He was mingling, too, trying to slowly approach her, so they ended up facing each other rather sooner than either had intended. On closer inspection, Eliza realized that his clothing was made in a style with which she was not familiar.

He bowed, kissing her hand. "M'lady Death," he greeted as he stood up.

"Your Royal Peacockness," she replied, curtsying deeply.

"From the moment I entered those doors, I've been watching you," he flirted.

"So first you arrive late, a fact of which I'm sure the princess will not approve, and then you admit to being a skulker," Eliza teased.

"As to your second objection to me, I just happened to notice, in all my…skulking…that _you_ were hunting _me_ like a leopardess stalks a particularly succulent deer." After leading her out to a secluded section of the dance floor, he bowed again as she curtsied. The musicians had just started another dance.

Eliza smiled; she rather liked being compared to a leopardess. "And as to my first objection?"

While they circled each other with their right wrists crossed in the air between them, he said, "I only hope that I can dance well enough that you'll forgive my tardiness, Princess." Andrew had not meant to tell her that he knew who she was, but the word was out of his mouth before he had time to think about it.

Eliza's smile faltered for a moment, but anyone could be watching, so she smiled again, not as sincerely this time. "What makes you think I'm a princess, Your Royal Birdness?" She spoke the title she had just invented for him with a bit of a bite. How was it possible that two different men could figure out who she was? The nobleman dressed as Rumpelstiltskin had left over half an hour ago; or rather, she had not seen him since he finished dancing with her. Was it possible that these two had some plot together, and the nobleman had waited outside for this so-called prince to arrive? But what purpose would these men have for ruining her birthday?

"I apologize if I have offended you, O Mistress of Mortality," Andrew said, not sure if he was offended or amused by her title for him. As a result, his retort carried a hint of snappishness as well.

"That hardly seems a genuine apology, Your Arrogance," Eliza snapped.

"Well, your so-formal address to me hardly sounded respectful, Madame Fatality."

"Why do you think _I_ am the princess, Your Royal Selfishness?"

"Is your dignity so easily wounded, Your Deadliness?"

"I believe your earlier analogy was slightly flawed, Sir Conceit," she said, irritated that he was not answering her question.

"Pray tell, My Lovely Demise, in what way did my analogy fail to exceed expectations?" He felt himself leaning more toward amusement as Eliza's responses kept coming.

"Perhaps this leopardess stalked you because she was hungering for a bit of tendersome bird-flesh rather than tough venison, O Master of Vanity."

At this, Andrew began to laugh, which only made Eliza angrier.

"What could it be that so amuses you?" She could no longer be bothered to think up clever forms of address; her temper was rising.

"I apologize," he said, controlling his merriment. "And I beg you to allow me the opportunity to explain myself." At Eliza's frown, he added, "I would also remind you that Eliza's temper is quite legendary, as I understand it. You wouldn't want people thinking _you_ were the princess, now would you?"

It was only with a great effort that Eliza managed to control her face. "Why should I let you explain yourself?" She couldn't seem to force a smile, but she at least managed a frown that, from a distance, could be taken for a petulant pout.

"Because I did not come here with the intention of ruining your evening, m'lady." His eyes, a beautiful shade of blue, seemed sincere.

Eliza relented. "Very well, but if I do not agree with your reasonings, then I will ask you to leave my celebrations. And I will expect you to comply without delay."

"Agreed," he said. "I regret that I cannot reveal my source tonight, but as soon as I saw you, I knew you were the one described to me. I was told who you were, as you may have guessed. I promise you this," he added, seeing the unfriendly look in her veiled eyes. "When I can tell you who revealed your secret, I will gladly do so." She frowned, but nodded.

When he didn't continue, Eliza prompted, "You still haven't said why you laughed earlier. Don't you know you should never laugh at a woman when she is angry with you?"

"Yes, I have discovered that gem of knowledge the hard way," he said ruefully. Not only from Eliza, but from a time when he had once thought his mother was jesting. He had been quite surprised to find out just how serious she was. "I should not have laughed, to be sure, but never have I come across a woman who could match every one of my witticisms with her own cleverness. Every other woman has reacted differently than you. Some thought to punish me by silence, others have tried to keep up with me, but became twaddle-tongued in the attempt. Others simply burst into tears, not realizing that I have an admittedly awkward sense of humor sometimes," Andrew said, a hint of embarrassment on his face.

"You thought I was clever?" Eliza asked.

"I have never met a woman as headstrong as you. Or rather, I've never met one who didn't try to pretend she was otherwise." Andrew smiled, a breathtaking, charming smile. "I can't stand it when a woman tries to be something she is not. I find it quite endearing when a woman is not ashamed to be herself."

"You're not from around here, are you?" the princess asked, feeling her anger fade.

"Not exactly, no."

Eliza's eyes widened. "A different kingdom?"

He had not wanted to admit this, but he sensed that their camaraderie was still tenuous, so he said, "Yes. I'm actually from the kingdom that borders the Wolfswood."

"You certainly came a long way."

"I have…contacts…here in your kingdom, and they told me that this would be the masquerade of the century. I couldn't resist," he said, smiling. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either.

Eliza sensed that there was something deeper going on, but decided on a whim that she would not press the issue. There was something about this man that she liked, despite how much he had irritated her earlier.

"I want you to understand something," Eliza said. "Here in my kingdom, every person has the freedom to do as they wish. A woman can become a knight, or a shop-owner, or whatever she wishes, while any man can do whatever he wishes, including things most other kingdoms designate as a woman's work, such as the washing of clothes, cleaning for those who can afford to pay someone to do so. A man can even stay at home to raise his children while his wife earns the family's keep, if that is what they both wish."

"I have heard that about your kingdom," Andrew said, not sure what she was trying to tell him.

Eliza sensed that, and added, "I grew up in place where women don't have to pretend to be something they are not. So I'm hardly unique when it comes to being myself."

Suddenly Andrew understood that Eliza was being modest, so he said softly, "'Tis beyond compare to me. You are the first woman of your kingdom with whom I have had the pleasure of conversing."

Eliza smiled teasingly, saying, "You mean I'm the first woman of my kingdom you have insulted."

Andrew smiled as well. "Also the first woman who has ever beaten me at my own game," he said. "No matter what kingdom you hail from, that has proven to be quite an accomplishment."

Eliza was surprised to realize that they had been dancing by rote this whole time. "I thought you were going apologize for your tardiness with your supposed dancing skills. So far they've been no better than average," she mocked, good-naturedly.

"Well, then, perhaps you should stop distracting me by besting every one of my insults," he countered, grinning widely.

As a new dance started, Eliza held back a retort of her own, wanting to find out if he could dance as well as he had implied.

* * *

><p>After dancing the rest of the night away, Eliza felt happier than she had been in a long time. The Prince of Peacocks, who wouldn't reveal his own identity, remained by her side as the guests who had been accused of being the princess were unmasked. She had been delighted that no one had guessed her. When all of the candidates had stepped down, the crier asked if there were any further guesses. When no one spoke up, he called for the princess to step forward and reveal herself.<p>

As she had planned, her two ladies-in-waiting, as well as two other noblewomen she had asked to join her, stepped onto the dais at the foot of the staircase. With Eliza in the center, they all five turned to face the waiting crowd. As one, they all lifted off their masks. Eliza, also removing her wig, stepped forward to the gasps of the crowd. She even heard a few women insisting that this was impossible; she hadn't behaved as a princess would. Eliza beamed, then announced that anyone who wished to stay longer was welcome to do so, for the dancing and drinking would continue for as long as there were guests in the ballroom.

As her two ladies-in-waiting took her aside to unpin her hair, Eliza looked around for her Prince of Peacocks. She wanted to see him without his mask. But he was not in the crowd. One of her ladies had brought a small brush; she sighed but did not complain as Eliza moved, craning her neck to look around.

Then Eliza spotted him, hurrying out one of the doors. Disregarding the state of her hair, Eliza gathered up her skirts and ran to the same door, which was, of course, at the far end of the ballroom. By the time she reached the other side of the door, there was no sign of the man she knew only as the Prince of Peacocks.

* * *

><p>Paige had needed to return to her house after breakfast to change for work. She had felt a sense of relief when Mr. Gold had said he would meet her at the pawnshop rather than accompanying her home. She didn't want to think about him wandering around her house without her knowing exactly where he was. She needed to find a good place to hide her spinning wheel.<p>

She had taken the time to shower, which had almost made her late. She felt tired and out of sorts; it had been a while since she had gotten up as early as she had this morning.

As she got down on her knees to dust the decorative rungs between the legs of an old buffet, she kept telling herself that she had only twenty minutes left. Just twenty more minutes, and she could go. When she finished dusting, she knelt there for a moment, working up the energy to get back up.

Suddenly Mr. Gold was standing in front of her. "While you're down there, Paige," he said, letting the insinuation hang in the air as Paige stared at his belt buckle.

She shook her head and got up as fast as she could. **No!** she signed.

"It's not as if you haven't done it before," he said.

**Once. I did it once. And it was a one-time-only thing!**

"So you only did it to get what you wanted, is that right, Paige?" His voice had taken on a dangerous tone.

**Yes. You never do anything nice for someone unless you get something in return. That's why I did it.**

"You think you can do something like that just once, and never have to do it again? You've already proven yourself willing, even if it was just that one time."

**Fine,** Paige signed. **Consider this my two-week notice.**

"You realize, don't you, that if you quit here, you'll be undermining all the hard work you've done in proving that you're fit to live on your own. Not to mention making your little…gesture, worthless." He smirked, greedily eying her mouth, which he had very much enjoyed less than a week ago.

**I'll find another job, **she signed. **I have friends now, friends who will help me without thinking about what's in it for them.**

"Oh, I hardly think it will be that easy, Paige," Mr. Gold said, smirking slightly.

Paige signed, **Is this the part where you make like the villain in a bad movie and tell me you'll see to it I never work in this town again?**

With a wolfish grin, he replied, "I hardly need to resort to cheap threats. Keep in mind, Paige, that I am the only businessman in this town who knows sign language. Texting and writing notes may work with your little friends, but it's not very professional. Who would employ someone with whom they can't effectively communicate? Oh, I'm sure that you'll find some sympathy for your plight, but a full-time job such as I've given you? I very much doubt it."

Paige's face paled. He was right; she hadn't thought this through. The clock chimed five, and Paige ran for Gold's office to grab her things. As she rushed back through the shop to leave, Mr. Gold called to her, "By the way, if you intend to give notice, I'd like it on my desk first thing in the morning, dear."

As she all but ran out the door, Mr. Gold's smile was almost evil. He knew she didn't dare quit. She didn't want to move back into his house again, he could sense it. Keeping her independence had become her driving force. He leaned on his cane and watched her hurry down the street away from his shop.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter," which begins the day after Emma sees Graham sneaking out of Regina's house in the episode "The Shepherd." The chapter ends the same night that the episode ends…

Graham: Sorry, I – I thought you were a wolf.

Mr. Gold: Did I forget to shave?

Me and my sister: *fangirl squeal*

There are two unique turns of phrase in the first scene:

"Taking the Goat" means, as is implied, that someone is intentionally being overdramatic for the purpose of amusing others.

"A thrice-curled genius" is a saying only among fauns. Eliza is correct in assuming that fauns (like humans) associate great age with great wisdom, but what she cannot know is that the saying also carries a certain level of impossibility. No faun has ever lived long enough for their horns to curl around three times. So by calling someone "a thrice-curled genius," you are calling them impossibly smart. Depending upon the tone of voice and the context of the conversation, this phrase could be used as either a compliment or an insult. In the context here, it is meant as good-natured teasing.

The story "everyone" knows about Sleeping Beauty is meant to be the fairy tale with which we are all familiar, not whatever clever twist on it that ABC might have planned for a future episode.

In the pilot, Mr. Gold collects a wad of cash from Granny – why does she owe him money? For the purposes of my story, Mr. Gold offered Granny a loan to help pay the bills from the heart attack that Granny referred to shortly before Gold came to collect the money. **I do not know if this is ABC's intention! This is for the purposes of my story only!**

When Graham came across Mr. Gold in the woods, Gold said he was doing "a spot of gardening." What is that supposed to mean? He is not taking any kind of plant away with him, as far as we can tell… but on ABC's website, I found a green-screen picture of Rumpelstiltskin (who was not in this episode!), filed under the Behind the Scenes photos for "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. (Now I can't wait for season one on DVD… deleted scenes, please!) It is a shot of Rumpelstiltskin in what seems to be his workshop, carrying a shovel. There is a plant of some kind in the foreground; I'm assuming Rumpelstiltskin has some use for it (we know he uses lanolin for certain things, from the episode "Desperate Souls." Perhaps lanolin is not the only natural item for which he has uses.)

The big question is: was Mr. Gold looking for the same kind of plant? Or was he either hiding something or searching for something? If he _was_ looking for the plant, why did we hear him using the shovel only to find that he had no plant with him when he stood up? Or was he planting something at the base of that random tree in the middle of the woods? **I do not know what ABC's intentions are for this "gardening" incident! For my own purposes only, looking for a specific plant was at least one of his reasons for going out there – whether or not the only reason, it was the reason he gave Paige.**

So that behind-the-scenes image, with that plant in the foreground, is the basis I used for why Mr. Gold takes Paige on a gardening expedition. Which just _happens_ to end up with Paige lying at the base of a tree. Naked…

Yes! Rumpelstiltskin crashed Eliza's party! There were two hints of this in the last chapter, did you catch them?

* * *

><p>Reviews are (almost!) better than chocolate!<p> 


	7. S1 Ch7 - A Chance Meeting

As usual, I do not own the show or ABC's characters, only the ones I have created...

Pronunciation on the historical names: Rolph – ROLF. Lanae – luh-NAY. Firend – fee-REND. Fiero – fee-AIR-oh. Amalthea – uh-MAL-thea

The name Amalthea is taken from the movie "The Last Unicorn" **I am not in any way, shape, or form associated with the movie or the studio that created it. I do not own any rights to the movie.** I just think that Amalthea is a pretty name, and wanted to use it in homage to a movie that I love. (And a big thanks to Sparky, who first introduced me to it!)

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Three Kingdoms – a history lesson<em>

_A long time ago, there was only one kingdom on this side of the Wolfswood. But five hundred years ago, it was ruled by King Rolph, whose wife, Lanae, bore only daughters. He did not wish her any harm, but he decided that he needed to put her aside to remarry and thus beget a legal heir. So he annulled his marriage and gave his former wife the poorly tended blueberry district, where he felt she could earn enough from the area's meager trade to get by._

_So Lanae took her daughters there, and they revitalized the district, although she took great care not to let her former husband realize just how successful the region had become. She began to build up a military force, but when corresponding with the king, she claimed she needed a local sheriffing force. Lanae was secretly plotting to break ties with the man who had cast her aside and begin her own kingdom, but she knew how to wait for the opportune moment._

_The king's new wife had given birth to twin boys within a year of becoming queen. The first-born should have inherited the throne, but their father preferred the younger twin, Fiero, who had a better head for politics. So when the twins were fifteen, King Rolph sent the older boy, Firend, to the border of the Wolfswood, where many Wolfs had begun prowling, causing much devastation to the farmers who lived there. The boy proved himself a true warrior, always first into danger and always last to retreat. The men his father sent with him grew to respect him, the more so that he was willing to risk his own life that not even the bodies of their slain comrades should be left to the bellies of the Wolfs._

_Eventually, one of his soldiers confessed to the boy a plot: the king planned to crown Fiero as his heir on the pretext that a message had come from the Wolfswood claiming that Firend was lost, presumed slain, in a skirmish. When the boy heard of his father's betrayal, he sent the soldier out to find which men were loyal to his father and which were loyal to himself._

_The latter group proved to be the majority of the men his father had sent with him. The boy arranged to hide himself after a battle, and then have his loyal second-in-command send home the small contingent of men devoted to the faithless king. _

_When they brought the message that the elder boy had disappeared in battle, the king was delighted, believing that he no longer needed to lie. But his elder son had plans._

_When the king's men returned, they found a border set up around roughly one third of the kingdom – the very third that bordered the Wolfswood! Firend had declared his own kingdom, with the support of the men loyal to him. He sent a messenger to his father, declaring his independence and claiming the lands by the Wolfswood as his rightful kingdom, as his own father had plotted against him._

_The king could do nothing; more than half of his army had defected to the new kingdom. While he raged about his son's ungrateful behavior, his former wife used her sheriffing force to proclaim the blueberry district her kingdom, thus leaving the faithless king with but a third of his kingdom._

_Lanae, now a queen in her own right, declared her eldest daughter, Amalthea, the heir to her throne. But despite the urgings of her advisors to make the ruling of her new kingdom matriarchal, she was fed up with laws and traditions that raised up one gender while oppressing the other. So she declared that her kingdom would allow all persons to rise or fall on their own merit. The first child of the ruler would become the next ruler, regardless of gender. Women could become knights, peasants could become nobles, men could stay at home to raise the children if they desired. Provided they earned it, any person could do or become whatever they wished._

_Rolph's eldest son, now the ruler of his own lands, created a kingdom of relative safety by keeping at all times a large fighting force, which patrolled both the border of the Wolfswood and the border with his father's lands. He continued to be an inspiration to his soldiers, and was a good king to his people._

_The fickle king never recovered from what he saw as the betrayals of those who should have doted upon him for his kindness. His younger twin's line ruled the shrunken kingdom for many generations before it at last petered out about five and seventy years ago, leaving the nobles warring for the right to rule._

* * *

><p>"Your Royal Highness, may I present to you King Owen and his faithful knight, Sir Ryan." The page who had led the visitors to the throne room backed away to stand along the wall with the other retainers who waited on their king's orders.<p>

A triumphant fanfare was trumpeted as Owen and Ryan approached what some had called the Wolfsbane Throne. It sounded much more intimidating that what his own throne was often called. The Blueberry Throne just didn't have the same sense of authority to it, but Owen had never minded. His kingdom had been founded on successful trading and strength of the mind, whereas the kingdom he was now visiting was founded on sound defense and the strength of arms.

A crier began to extol the virtues of his rulers. "All hail King Tristan the Just, son of Nigel the First, Great Protector of the People, Bane of Wolfs! All hail Queen Ayala the Gracious, Daughter of the Forest!"

Owen could see the unusual tint of her hair. It was a true gold, like the crowns of state she and her husband wore. Even her skin was lightly dappled with some shimmering color that reminded Owen of the sunlight through the leaves of the forest canopy, falling upon the fur of a graceful doe. Her eyes shone, a brownish-orange hue that seemed startling in her human face. Even in her human form, this Golden Hind was an exotic and breathtaking creature.

"Greetings, Cousin!" cried Tristan, leaping from his throne to embrace Owen once all the pomp and circumstance was over. They had only the slightest blood in common; Owen's ancestress Amalthea, who first inherited the crown in the blueberry district, had been the half-sister of Tristan's ancestor, the boy Firend whose father had disowned him. In the intervening five hundred years, there had been no intermarrying between the two lines, so the term 'Cousin' was more Tristan's way of showing that he wished a greater friendship, and perhaps an alliance, with Owen's kingdom.

"Now that all the ceremony is over, will you be so kind as join Ayala and myself for tea on the veranda?" Tristan's smile was genuine, and put his guest at ease. Owen had been nervous about requesting this audience. With a warring kingdom between their two lands, there had been no formal embassies in over seventy years, and precious little trade.

"That sounds wonderful, King Tristan," Owen said.

"Please," countered Tristan, "there's no need for formalities between us." He led Owen toward the veranda, while Sir Ryan offered an arm to Queen Ayala. Tristan nodded his thanks to the knight, then continued speaking to Owen as they left the throne room. "I was intrigued by your implications that we may be able to further the relations between our two kingdoms. I am eager to hear the plans you spoke of." Owen's letter had been vague, of necessity. In a letter it was all too easy to read a promise into something that was only meant as a possibility.

* * *

><p>It was Saturday afternoon, but just about everyone had shown up at the church. The mayor had declared that the entire town would be closed down for the day, so everyone who wished could attend the Sheriff's funeral. Even Mr. Gold had not tried to convince Regina otherwise.<p>

It had rained while they were at the graveside, and Paige's heels had gotten mired in the muck. They would have to be cleaned, but even that might not save them. Fortunately, she had thought to bring a pair of flip-flops along, in case the heels became uncomfortable.

Mike had been very subdued for the past few days. Once they had entered the fellowship hall and taken seats a table, Paige had not seen Mike. When the time came, she had gotten herself some food, then sat there awkwardly at the half-empty table with an older couple she did not know and who did not even bother to try making polite conversation with her.

Paige decided to look for Mike. She had gone upstairs to where the fellowship hall connected to the church itself, thinking that maybe Mike had wanted to be alone with his thoughts. What better place for that than the sanctuary of a church?

Not having found him, Paige made her way back to the fellowship hall. She wasn't paying attention and almost bumped into someone at the foot of the steps. Paige looked up to see a blonde woman leaning around her to peer up the steps.

"Wow," the woman said, "that's a lot of skirt."

Paige twisted to look for herself; although she was standing at the bottom of the steps, the hem of her skirt was still four steps up. It made it seem as if her skirt had a train.

Smiling slightly, Paige signed, **Yeah, I remember it doing that when my mother wore it. That was always my favorite thing about this skirt…** She suddenly realized what she was doing and started looking around for Mike, or even Mr. Gold, to translate for her. What was she thinking, using sign language as if everyone understood it?

"I've never much liked long skirts myself," the stranger said, "but you know what they say. To each her own." The woman smiled, but it looked a bit wistful, as if she wished she had memories like that. "Oh, by the way, I'm Emma," she added, offering her hand to Paige, who shook it, looking completely bemused.

**I'm Paige,** she signed hesitantly. **You…you understand sign language?**

"Yeah, I learned it for my job, kind of," Emma replied

**Oh, I know Mr. Gold told me what you do, **Paige signed, thinking hard. **But I can't remember what he said.**

"I'm a bail bondsperson," said Emma, frowning slightly at Mr. Gold's name. There was something about that man that bugged her, but Emma had never been able to put a finger on exactly what that was.

**Right!** **So why did you have to learn sign language for that?**

"There was this lawyer once, who wanted to contract my services for his client. It was one the best offers I've ever seen, but that was because they needed someone with special skills. The client was deaf and mute, and they wanted someone who could communicate with him without an interpreter. I hated having to turn that one down. So I started learning sign language. I kind of hoped I could learn it fast enough to still be able to take the job, but it took a lot longer than I thought it would. And, ironically enough, I haven't had any use for it again until just now."

**It's just so weird to me. There are only three people in town who know sign language: me, my friend Mike, who actually taught it to me, and Mr. Gold. Well, four now, I guess. **Paige felt odd; she hadn't even realized it until now, but this was the first time in seven years that she could have a real conversation with another woman. Texting Ruby was wonderful, but it just wasn't the same; it took so long to type up the messages that Paige sometimes felt she was dragging the conversations down.

"Really? What about your friends?" Emma asked.

**I don't really have many. I was home schooled, so I never met anyone my age. Then when I was sixteen, my mom…died, and I went through a lot of really bad times in the next year. By the time I was seventeen, I could no longer speak, my mom was gone, and my dad fell apart and got put into a facility. I literally knew no one. But Mr. Gold stepped in and became my legal guardian. Mike wanted to become a teacher, so he was trying to do some tutoring to put on his college applications, and somehow someone found out that he knew sign language, so the council arranged for him to come teach me. So, until recently, I didn't really know anyone but Mike and Mr. Gold. But I am friends with Ruby now,** Paige added. Just then, she heard a familiar voice on the steps behind her.

"Hey, you're in the way, you know," Ruby teased. Paige moved, smiling at Ruby as she came down to join Emma and Paige.

"Speak of the devil," joked Emma.

"Excuse me?" Ruby wasn't sure if she was being teased or insulted.

"Paige was just telling me that you two have become friends recently." Looking from one to the other, Emma asked, "Did you learn sign language or something, Ruby?"

"No, I came up with the brilliant idea of using text messages. I talk to Paige, and she texts me back." Ruby pretended to preen as if expecting praise.

**Not that she's got an ego problem or anything, **Paige signed to Emma.

"Oh, no, you're right about that. Her ego isn't over-inflated at all," Emma replied with a straight face.

**Traitor,** signed Paige, with a hint of a smile on her face to tell Emma it was a joke.

"Oh, right, 'cause Ruby doesn't know sign language," Emma replied, pretending she had only just remembered.

"Alright, see if I get your order right the next time I wait on you," Ruby joked back. "Either of you."

Paige smiled. This was what she had always dreamed of as a child. Teasing back and forth with a group of girls who were all friends. It was so much better than she had imagined.

"What's going on here?" Regina stalked over to them. They all jumped, turning to face her. "We are here because a good man died. Can you three please try to respect that?"

"What," said Emma, "do you honestly think Graham would want us all to sit around sobbing for him? Don't you think he would want us to remember him fondly and move on? That's what we're trying to do."

"You are being deliberately disrespectful," Regina started, before Emma cut her off. Both were speaking quietly, but angrily.

"If we weren't having this funeral today, I might never have met Paige. I think Graham would be glad to see people in this town getting to know each other better. Why else do you think he was sheriff? Because he _cared_about the people of Storybrooke! Having friends can make any place seem better. But you wouldn't understand that, would you, Madame Mayor?" Emma's retort stung Regina, enough that she didn't try to continue berating the three women standing before her. They walked away to continue their conversation elsewhere.

Regina stood there for a long moment, trying to regain her composure.

"Are you alright, Regina?" Kathryn had not seen the confrontation, but the lost look on the mayor's face touched her heart.

Regina looked at her friend, and just seeing Kathryn's face really did make this awful moment seem a little bit better. When Kathryn took her in her arms, Regina let herself be held, surprised at the emotions she felt. She hadn't wanted to kill Graham; he and Emma had forced her hand. But she was also not as devastated as she probably should be about murdering the man who had shared her bed for so long. Ah, well, she would let just enough of her grief show so the people would see she was mourning him. But naturally, they would assume that she was trying to keep her grief private, so her small "slips" would give the impression of a much deeper grief, one that almost couldn't be contained. After all, as a public figure, image was everything. And Regina was very good at maintaining her image.

* * *

><p>"My daughter is not exactly your typical girl," King Owen said, trying to find the most appealing way to describe his daughter. She was kind and generous, intelligent, and had a good head for leadership, but she was also outspoken and headstrong, and on the rare occasions when her temper rose, it was legendary; and he loved her for all of it. In their own kingdom, women were not subjected to the scrutiny and stereotyping that was frequent in other lands, so Eliza's personality was merely a part of who she was. But some kingdoms preferred women to be delicate and soft-spoken, interested only in things like embroidery, spinning, and docilely watching the men tilt. The only "feminine" things Eliza liked to do were cook and play the violin.<p>

Sir Ryan did not quite succeed at stifling a loud guffaw; according to an outsider's standards, Eliza would most likely be considered a disgraceful tomboy. Given the choice, she would dress in breeches, but despite the equality of the genders in their kingdom, dresses were still considered to be appropriate attire for a woman unless her livelihood made them impractical. A female knight wore the same uniform as any male knight, but when she was not in uniform, she still wore a dress.

Owen frowned at his companion. The whole purpose of this meeting was to convince King Tristan to consider the idea of betrothing his brother to Eliza, so it was important to present her in her best light.

Tristan watched their faces; he could tell there was more going on here than met the eye. He knew enough about Owen's kingdom to wonder if Eliza had a truly difficult personality, or if she was merely as stubborn as he'd heard King Owen could be. Tristan made a pre-arranged signal to his wife while saying, "So tell me more about your daughter, Owen." He knew Ayala would understand.

The queen began to fidget very subtly, smoothing at her sleeves, fingering the lace that framed her hands without seeming to notice what she was doing.

"She has proven herself as a ruler; I know that when the time comes, I can trust her to be fair yet just in ruling the people. She does not let her own fear distract her from her duties. Most unfortunately, I was not there to witness this myself, but Sir Ryan here, as well as another trusted advisor, Doctor Nerean, gave me a full report." Owen was referring to the earthshake that had happened shortly before Eliza was declared the Crown Princess and legal heir to the throne. He paused a moment, remembering his pride when he heard how well his precious girl had acquitted herself.

Just then, Ayala put a hand on her husband's arm. "Tristan, may I excuse myself? The gardens look so inviting, and I haven't had as much time as I'd like lately to walk in them."

Tristan looked around for a page. "I'd like to summon a guard to escort you. Normally I wouldn't ask you to wait for such inconvenience, but with our esteemed guests here, I've been more worried than normal about the security of the palace."

The queen frowned for a moment, but did not argue. Then, as there was still no page in sight since Tristan had sent them all away for privacy's sake, she came upon an idea. "Perhaps Sir Ryan would be good enough to escort me. That is, if you would feel sanguine about placing my safety in his hands."

With barely a hesitation, Tristan glanced at the knight and said, "Of course! Provided he believes that his king and I can defend ourselves for the few moments it would take for my guards to arrive, I could not worry for your safety as long as he is by your side." This was a calculated maneuver, and Tristan did not even care if Owen saw through it. He wanted to establish trust between their two kingdoms. But this plan was two-fold. While Ayala walked the gardens, she would find out the truth about Eliza's personality. Ryan clearly knew something that Owen wasn't saying, and Tristan wanted to know exactly what he might be getting his brother into. The gruff knight seemed like a great talker, and not one to weigh his words too carefully before speaking them.

Sir Ryan stood and bowed to Queen Ayala, murmuring, "Your Highness." He offered his arm, which she took, and led her down the veranda steps and into the carefully tended garden.

"Your lady wife is most fair," Owen said, and not just out of politeness.

"My queen was not born a lady," Tristan said, watching her chat animatedly with Sir Ryan.

"Is it true, then, that she is a Golden Hind?" Although her appearance certainly fit in with the legends of such creatures, one never knew what strange creatures one might come across in this world.

"She is. I met her in the woods one day when I was…hunting." Tristan's thoughts turned inward for a moment; he would never forget the day he met the beautiful creature who would become his queen.

After a moment, Owen took a drink, setting his cup down a little more firmly than normal. The slight sound brought Tristan back to the present day.

"By the way," Owen said, "will I be able to meet your brother before I leave here?"

Tristan replied, "As a matter of fact, I understand he should be here in time for supper this evening."

"That is wondrous news. I should like to meet this young man before we begin our real work." Owen, like Tristan, wanted to make sure he wasn't letting Eliza in for some terrible ordeal with someone she could never respect, let alone love. But there would be plenty of time to broach the conditions of any betrothal agreement after both parties had decided that there should be such an agreement.

* * *

><p>Owen paced the spacious sitting room he and Ryan had been given for their visit. There were no less than four bedrooms off of it, so there was plenty of room for both of the king's menservants as well as Ryan's squire, provided the menservants shared a room. All four bedrooms were well-appointed, as was the luxurious sitting room that Owen did not even notice at the moment. He had been quite perturbed when King Tristan had led him back inside without waiting for Sir Ryan to finish escorting the queen through the garden.<p>

He worried about Ryan's tongue. The man tended to get carried away in conversation, and even though the queen was a Golden Hind, a creature of the forest rather than a born-and-bred noblewoman, everything Owen had seen and heard led him to believe that Queen Ayala was a shrewd and deep-thinking woman. He was frustrated at the thought that all his careful descriptions of his daughter might be for naught.

Smiling broadly, Ryan came through the door. Owen felt a sense of relief. The clock on the mantle showed that he himself had returned only a scant twenty minutes before, although it had seemed longer.

After sending his menservants out, Owen checked the squire's room. The boy had been given the freedom to spend the afternoon as he wished, so long as he returned with enough time to help his master dress for supper; he was not spending his idle time in his chamber.

"So how was your walk," Owen asked.

"The queen is quite a woman, Owen. Quite a woman! She wasn't raised around humans, you know. She's very down-to-earth, which I guess is to be expected from a Golden Hind." Ryan smiled, remembering her sometimes shocking honesty.

"And upon what subjects did the two of you converse, my friend?" Owen could hardly keep himself from shouting, desperate to know what the man had said about his daughter.

"Ah, she loved my stories, Owen! I mean really loved them, she didn't just pretend it. I told her about the time you and I outwitted that sphinx, she loved that one! 'The answer to mine is a secret!' Ha!" Ryan laughed uproariously.

"Did you tell her any stories about Eliza," asked Owen, his voice tight.

"Why, yes, I told her about the earthshake. And that time when she wouldn't come out of her room for days because you didn't want her to learn the sword!" Ryan slapped his thigh, laughing as he remembered the princess' face as she made her demands, and Owen's own stubborn refusal to bend. That had been one of the worst of their fights.

Ryan's laughter ended abruptly as Owen sank down into a nearby chair, holding his head in his hands. "Are you alright, Sire?"

"Did I not warn you not to go spouting off without asking me first? Didn't I make it clear how important it is that they get the best possible impression of Eliza?" Owen's voice was strained from the effort of holding in his anger.

"Your Highness," Ryan said, going down on one knee before his king, "I humbly beg apologies, but I never agreed to lie for you. Not in this."

"I don't want you to lie, Sir Ryan. I just wanted them to hear only the good things about Eliza."

"Begging your pardon, Sire, but 'tis not honest to tell them only what we think they want to hear. No one is perfect, and if we present only the good side of your daughter they will be left to imagine what her faults are, and their imaginings may be far worse than the truth. We, Sire, will have the chance to meet the prince in question and make judgment for ourselves; they do not have that luxury."

After a long moment, Owen sighed. All the tension flowed out of his body, and Ryan knew that the worst was over. Owen said, "I apologize, Ryan. You are right; they might ascribe far worse faults to my daughter if I continue trying to hide the true ones. I just wish I knew more about what this prince expects of a woman."

"Fortunately, sire," Ryan replied, rising to take a chair near Owen's, "her worst trait is her temper, which is as slow to rise as yours. And she is as careful as you to ensure that the object of her anger truly deserves it."

"You are a good friend, Ryan," Owen said, smiling.

"Of course, once either of your tempers rise, all hell breaks loose. Even Rumpelstiltskin would be wise to tread lightly around either of you, especially if you're both in a temper!" Ryan laughed, but it faded quickly when Owen did not join in.

"I would ask that you never use that name around me, Sir Ryan. It is not one I ever wish to hear again." Owen felt his hands curl into fists; what he wouldn't give to have that imp at his mercy, despite the fact that Owen himself had never actually met the vile little man.

Ryan wanted to know what had caused his friend this much pain, but he knew better than to try to ask. He had narrowly escaped the king's temper once today; he had no intention of putting himself in its way again.

* * *

><p>As the door opened, Ayala smiled to see Tristan enter the day nursery. Her husband leaned across the arm of the chair to kiss her, then to kiss their baby's forehead. Their son was far too focused on nursing to pay attention to his father. At nearly 10 months of age, Nigel II was a healthy, rosy-cheeked baby. His hair had started out so fair that it was nearly white, but already it had darkened to a medium brown. Ayala suspected it would turn out as dark as Tristan's. But little Nigel's eyes, tilted like his namesake's, were the same brownish-orange color as her own.<p>

Guessing some of what was going through his wife's mind, Tristan said, "I wish you had known my father."

"I see him in you, and in your brother. And all my instincts tell me that he would be proud of this healthy, beautiful child you have sired." She stroked her husband's cheek.

His eyes misting, Tristan changed the subject. "I see you found yourself an excuse to get out of that formal gown," he teased.

"You know I despise how tight those dresses are." What she wore now was flowing and simple, with sleeves that wrapped around the arm, leaving the front of the sleeve open. When she lifted her arms, they might as well be bare for the way the sleeves dangled gracefully at her sides. Nowhere was there a bit of boning; only a simple belt, buckled but not too tightly, held in the waist. The only lacing on the dress was not meant to make anything tight. It was at the top center of the bodice, where the laces could be opened so she could nurse her son. "Besides," she added, her nose wrinkling in distaste, "I shall doubtless be required to don an even stuffier gown for supper."

"Not at all, my queen," he smiled. "Andrew has just arrived and is washing up. I've decided that tonight's supper shall be private. Just Owen, Ryan, Andrew, and the two of us. Not only will it give Andrew a chance to relax a bit, it will be a better opportunity for our guests to get to know my brother. Unless, of course, you have news that might discourage such an informal meal?" He made sure to put the questioning lilt into his voice; his wife could be terribly literal at times, not answering an implied question until he put it directly. He could never be sure if she was teasing him or if it genuinely did not occur to her that by bringing up the subject, it meant he wanted her to answer.

Ayala smiled, saying, "Well, husband mine, it seems King Owen is simply trying to present the best side of his daughter. As I understand it, her leadership skills are exemplary, and she is very kind and generous without being too much so. She is hard-headed, like her father from what I've been told, and she is not what we would consider very lady-like. And she apparently has quite the temper, although it does not manifest often."

"What do you mean by, 'not very lady-like?'" Tristan frowned, thinking of the noblewomen here at court.

"For one, she would prefer to unhorse a man in tourney rather than sit quietly and watch. She despises sewing and embroidery, and has no patience for spinning. Oh, and she prefers to wear breeches rather than a dress."

Tristan grinned. "Perhaps she will be a good match for that brother of mine. He has shown nothing but polite disinterest in all of our eligible ladies."

"I thought the very same, my love," Ayala said, covering her breast before lifting Nigel onto her shoulder and patting his back so nature would act its course and bring up the air from his stomach. "Your brother is very much a soldier, and I think he needs someone who will put him in his place once in awhile. A challenge, as it were."

"It still feels like King Owen is holding something back, though," Tristan mused.

"Something tells me that what you sense has more to do with the actual agreement itself, not with the princess." Ayala's eyes lost their focus while she spoke; as her husband well knew, she had a knack for this kind of thing. If she said it wasn't about the princess, then it was not. Tristan would let it go at that; if supper tonight went well, then he would find out what the catch was tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Paige paced her living room. After meeting Emma at the wake yesterday, she had been toying with the idea of asking for Emma's help. Ruby was her first choice, but having to text her about this problem could be awkward. Paige knew for a fact that she was pregnant; Rumpelstiltskin's deal would hold true in this world as well. That night when the clock started again, Mr. Gold had been in her bed. They had not been using any protection; they never did. She had always wondered if his preference to go without was proof that he remembered his true past, and therefore knew that she could not get pregnant until time had begun again. After Wednesday, when she saw the mask and he described her former self's masquerade in such detail, she knew she was right.<p>

She wished she had half the guts of the princess she had been. Eliza was stubborn and headstrong, but Paige was powerless and afraid. She was generous to a fault, taking care of others at the expense of her own needs. She hadn't been like that in the other world.

But she needed to bring Mike on board, and convince him to pretend to be the baby's father. She couldn't tell him the truth, of course, but she had been working on a story that she thought he would believe. However, her word that she was pregnant would not be enough to go on. She needed a pregnancy test, but how could she get one without anyone finding out? If she went to the store, someone would tell Mike. They all knew her there, and had a tendency to tease Mike when she visited him at work. She couldn't bear for him to find out that she was pregnant that way. She had to break it to him very carefully.

She could always ask Mr. Gold to get one for her, but he would only do it for a price, and she did not want to overuse the novelty of the favor she had done him so he would open late for her guardianship hearing. Besides, a mere pregnancy test was so not worth that particular favor. She also wasn't sure she could tell Mr. Gold that she thought she was pregnant without him figuring out that she, too, remembered the true past. There was a possibility that he already knew, or at least suspected. He was far too intuitive sometimes.

Despite how short a time she and Ruby had known each other, they had become fast friends. But Paige had never really had friends before, and she didn't know how to tell if it was too soon to trust Ruby with something this big. For that matter, she had barely known Emma for a day, but for some strange reason, Paige trusted Emma in a way she couldn't explain.

In the end, Paige texted Ruby, [Hey, Ru, if you're not working, can you come over?] Then she continued pacing while she waited for a reply. When a knock came at the door, her first irrational thought was of Ruby.

When she opened the door, it was Mike, bringing Chinese food for lunch, and a rented DVD. "Hey, Paige," he said, hugging her. "I know I kind of disappeared on you yesterday, and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I hope you haven't had lunch yet, I know it's after one, but I brought a peace offering," he said, holding up the bag full of little takeout boxes. "I got two orders of crab rangoon for you."

**Mike, you don't need a peace offering. I understand. We all have different ways of grieving, and I imagine you're feeling a little bit guilty that you never really tried to find out if you had a chance with Graham. And no, I haven't eaten yet. **She took the bag over to her coffee table and began to set out all the little boxes, which smelled divine to her right now. Even Mike's kung pao chicken smelled amazing, and she didn't even like spicy foods like that.

He stared at her for a long moment, watching as she went into the kitchen. When she came back with napkins, chopsticks, cups, and a two-liter of soda, he was still staring. She laid everything out on the coffee table and turned to Mike.

**What's wrong?**

"I – I mean – how – but…" Mike stammered. "How did you know?"

Knowing what Mike was most worried about, Paige reassured him, **It's ok, only someone who knows that you think you might be gay would have even suspected. You were very subtle. **Paige paused for a moment, remembering how Mike had surprised her by having discovered her feelings for him. **Unlike me, apparently,** she signed, blushing slightly.

Mike pulled Paige into a crushing hug, whispering, "Thank God for you, Paige. I don't know what I would do without you." Paige hugged him back, her heart aching. If only he loved her; if only the child she knew she was carrying belonged to him!

When Mike finally pulled back, Paige smiled reassuringly at him. They did not bring up the sheriff again, but chatted about more everyday matters as they settled in for a feast of Chinese and a movie.

* * *

><p>Mike didn't leave until a little after eight that evening, saying he wanted to shower before he went to bed, so he wouldn't have to get up quite so early in the morning. Paige had just sat back down on her couch when her phone went off.<p>

She had a new text message from Ruby. [Hey, P, sorry, busy day! Just got off work. Still want me to come over?]

[Only if you're not too tired] Paige texted back.

[Nah, when its busy like this, i get really wired. I won't be able to sleep for a while, gotta unwind first…] was Ruby's response.

[If you're sure it's not too much trouble, then yes, i'd love it if you came over, as soon as you're ready.] Paige felt a little guilty, especially given what she wanted to discuss with Ruby, but maybe if Ruby seemed too tired, Paige could wait for some other time to ask for her friend's help.

[Great, be there soon!]

* * *

><p>Paige had offered Ruby some of the leftover crab rangoon. She had wanted to save the second box for the next day, but knowing it was in the fridge was driving her crazy, so she brought them out for snack while Ruby visited.<p>

"So what's up, Paige?" Ruby asked, licking her fingers.

Paige's thumbs hovered over the keyboard of her phone while she tried to figure out the best way to break this news.

Ruby came over to sit next to Paige. "Is everything alright?"

Finally, Paige decided that it was best to be simple and honest. [I think i might be pregnant…]

"What?" Ruby's face was a mixture of surprise, concern, and uncertainty.

[I didn't have a period at all last month, and it's late again…] Paige couldn't meet Ruby's eyes, in spite of how badly she wanted to see her friend's reaction.

"Did you take a home test?" Ruby was being careful about what she said, still not sure how Paige really felt about this news.

[I don't know how to get one without anyone finding out…] Paige had originally typed in Mike's name, but decided to use the term anyone instead, so Ruby would understand that this wasn't information she was ready to share just yet.

"You can order them online," Ruby said. "I, um… I thought I was pregnant once, and since pretty much everyone knows me and Granny, I didn't want anyone to know or start spreading rumors, unless it was true, so I went the website for this big superstore thing, and you can either pick it up in store or have it delivered to your house. I can show you, where's your computer?"

Without texting back, Paige stood and beckoned Ruby to follow her upstairs, while Ruby explained about the different types of shipping and how fast each one would get the package to Paige's door.

* * *

><p>Tristan had been relieved to discover Owen's catch. He wished to draft an agreement, but would not sign it without his daughter's approval. He wanted his daughter to marry for love, which Tristan could hardly fault him for. He hoped Andrew would find the same, which was why his 22-year-old brother was not already wed.<p>

"I believe that, when combined, our kingdoms would have sufficient force to conquer the Betrayer's kingdom," Owen said, laying out his proposal. "If the betrothal occurs, we could immediately begin a campaign that would press their forces from both sides. Once we have succeeded, we could then split that kingdom down the middle. Half to your throne, and half to mine. I have brought several maps with me so we can discuss where that new border should lie. Then your forces could focus more on the Wolfs that plague your other border. We both increase our lands, and we have the security of knowing that our new neighbors are not only allies, but family, and not just from hundreds of years back."

"Yes," murmured Tristan, "this _was_ all one kingdom, once." His tone was mild and his eyes thoughtful, not giving away his true thoughts.

But Owen knew what he would think if their positions were reversed. "That is true, but I do not propose that we combine our kingdoms. It would cause for much unrest, and we will have enough of that once we have new districts to rule. Not to mention that small difficulty of who should rule and who should abdicate. Far too unpleasant of a prospect all around, for everyone concerned." He looked at Tristan, who gave nothing away. Owen wondered briefly what it would be like to play at cards with this man; nothing showed, but everyone had little tics and habits that would betray their inner thoughts. It was a shame he didn't have the leisure to discover King Tristan's. "Though I do not believe it impossible to successfully merge in future, that should be left to those who will no longer have to worry about strengthening their holds on new lands. 'Tis not meet that we should even mention such a thing, either way, in our betrothal agreement."

Tristan understood exactly what Owen was saying. This could be a step toward merging back into one big kingdom, or it could be the start of two separate yet allied kingdoms that would prosper the more for having one less enemy.

"You make a valid point, Owen," said Tristan. "And I agree that it would be good to end the fighting that, despite not being of either kingdom, has only harmed both of us. Let us peruse your maps." As Ryan took the rolled parchments from the large bag he was carrying, Tristan summoned his head clerk over. "Begin drafting the betrothal agreement. It must be ready for our approval before tonight's supper; we haven't much time, as King Owen has informed me that he is unable to stay past tomorrow night."

"Indeed," Owen agreed, "and if conditions permit, I should prefer to leave sometime tomorrow rather than wait. I have the utmost faith in my daughter, but I do not wish to leave her alone too long."

Ryan chuckled, causing Owen to blush.

"What is it?" asked Queen Ayala, knowing that there was something Owen hadn't told them yet.

"Well," Owen admitted, "Eliza doesn't know I'm here." Before anyone else could speak, he rushed on, saying, "Every suitor I've introduced has been met with boredom or even outright disdain. Some of them have been quite fine young men, but she does not believe that any man, not even her father, could understand what she seeks when it comes to love." He paused for a moment, before continuing, "She intends to have a masquerade ball for her twenty-first birthday this autumn. I would be honored if Prince Andrew would be a guest, so that he could meet my daughter. I am hopeful that if she believes that they have met by happenstance, she will actually give your brother a fair chance." Owen offered an apologetic glance to Andrew, who stood off to the side where the maps were being laid out.

Tristan couldn't help himself; he laughed outright. "Your daughter sounds like quite a handful," he joked loudly. "I don't envy you your task, brother."

Andrew, who recognized that he was being teased, replied mildly, "'Tis not work I seek, but love. Which, may I remind my royal brother, blossoms in the most unlikely of places."

With an abashed glance at his queen, Tristan said, "You are not wrong there, brother. Far from it." When he had set out into the woods that day, romance had been the farthest thing from his mind, but he had found it nonetheless.

Turning back to his guests, Tristan said, "Let's get this agreement made, ready to be signed should love blossom behind a pair of masks."

* * *

><p>Paige felt strange wearing her pajamas among all the masked revelers in their finest clothes. She had been here before, but when? Suddenly she saw a young woman dressed all in black, trimmed with gold. Her black hair was curled immaculately, and she was surveying the crowd, smiling. Paige shook her head; why did she somehow feel that the girl's hair should have been straight and much longer, not to mention red?<p>

A man in gold, whose twisted mask sported a somewhat exaggerated nose, seemed to appear out of nowhere behind the girl. Suddenly Paige knew where she was. She even knew she was dreaming. She had heard that realizing it was a dream was supposed to either wake a person up or enable them to control the dream. But neither of those happened in this case.

As she watched the girl flirt shamelessly with her dance partner, Paige tried to call out a warning. But though she could hear herself, no one in the ballroom noticed her. No one except the man she now knew to be Rumpelstiltskin. He smirked at her as she realized that she was powerless here, then turned his attentions back to his inappropriate behavior. He was pressing his hips against the princess' backside; Paige watched Eliza's mouth fall open. A part of her remembered those sensations, that excitement, but Paige knew who he was now and the sight sickened her.

She didn't want to see any more of this, but no matter which way she turned, she found the masked couple standing in front of her. It was impossible to get away, even if she ran. Finally, she saw her former self kiss Rumpelstiltskin, and she knew that her ordeal would soon be over. But she was wrong.

This time, after Rumpelstiltskin broke the second kiss, he took Eliza's hand and led her out of the ballroom. Paige felt compelled to follow; Rumpelstiltskin had met her eyes and seemed to have cast some sort of charm on her. As he led the princess through the door, he looked back at Paige, then looked up to the top of the stairs, where the king was just entering the ballroom. The young man dressed as the Prince of Peacocks had already entered and was standing at the railing near the top of the grand stairway.

Even though she wanted to stay, to see if the prince would be able to see her, she could not seem to turn herself around. Her legs were moving of their own volition, following Rumpelstiltskin and her former self into a small, empty chamber a fair distance from the ballroom.

Paige's heart sank; she remembered the impure thoughts she'd had while dancing with this man. She didn't want to see what she suspected was coming next.

With as little shedding of clothes as possible, that foul man had Eliza on her back on a sturdy table that stood beneath a curtained window, while he stood between her legs. He bent to use his mouth on the princess, who moaned passionately. Paige knew he was very good at that sort of thing; even though she did not particularly want Gold to touch her, it was simply a matter of biology. If a woman's body was manipulated the right way, she could be brought to ecstasy even if her mind tried to fight it.

Finally, Eliza cried out, her hips bucking wildly as her hands clenched at the draperies that hung over the window. Rumpelstiltskin stood and slowly, almost gently, entered Eliza. As the princess whimpered from the momentary pain of losing her virginity, Paige turned away. Once again, she found the scene directly ahead of her as she turned. She screamed at Eliza, told her to make him stop, but Eliza could not hear her. So Paige, remembering that he seemed to see her before, started yelling at Rumpelstiltskin, who simply turned and grinned wickedly as he began to find his rhythm. Paige ran up to him, intending to pull him away from the princess, but no matter how she tried, she could not touch him. He laughed at her as his hips moved faster. Paige stepped back, nearly weeping from frustration. She looked at her former self, whose pain had clearly faded. The princess had wrapped her legs around Rumpelstiltskin's hips as she moaned and shouted her pleasure.

Paige clutched at her arms as she hugged herself, trying to find some safe place to look, someplace where she wouldn't have to see this. But no matter what she tried, there was nothing to do but watch. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long before they finished. She cringed to hear Rumpelstiltskin calling out Eliza's name.

The princess lay on the table, recovering, while Rumpelstiltskin righted his clothes, somehow managing to look as if he had never disheveled them to begin with. Then, as Eliza sat up on the table, Rumpelstiltskin took off his mask. Eliza's eyes widened as she realized the truth. Paige waited for the rage and disgust that she knew Eliza would give vent to now. She took a grim sort of satisfaction in knowing that she was about to find out if Rumpelstiltskin could stand up to Eliza's temper.

But that didn't happen. Eliza's lips parted in wonder, and she slid off the table to kneel before the vile little man, who watched greedily as she took up the leash that had appeared in his hand. She buckled the attached collar around her neck, and Paige was incredulous to see that Eliza was happy to become his pet! Rumpelstiltskin's smile was evil and possessive as he drew a plain dagger and cut the laces on Eliza's bodice; she helped him remove her gown. He eyed the chemise she still wore, but decided it was not revealing enough and sliced right through all that careful embroidery Eliza had been so proud of. Surely that would bring her to her senses? She had hated embroidery, but wanted to add that personal touch to her costume. But Eliza just stared up at Rumpelstiltskin in mute adoration.

NO! NO, NO, NOOOO! Paige's screams were heard only by Rumpelstiltskin, who smirked triumphantly at her, waving cheekily as he led the leashed princess out of the room. This time, Paige did not have to follow, nor could she have. Her legs had given out, and she fell…

* * *

><p>She fell, feeling her elbow connect briefly and painfully with some unknown object in the dark. Landing rather heavily on her left side, she felt her shoulder twist painfully. Her hip started throbbing in counterpoint to the sharp pain in her shoulder. She rolled onto her stomach, hoping to ease the pain. She clenched her teeth with a sharp intake of breath; that really hurt! She sobbed silently, as much from the nightmare that lay fresh in her mind as from the pain. It never occurred to her that she should call someone to come help her. She lay like that until pure exhaustion took over, forcing her back into sleep.<p>

* * *

><p>Mike was subdued as they left Dr. Hopper's office that evening. He had been so angry at Paige this morning for not calling him. He had never thought to ask about her nightmare, and now he wished he had. He and Dr. Whale had both lectured Paige about the dangers of laying there for hours without medical attention. According to Whale, she had nearly dislocated her shoulder.<p>

Paige felt both better and worse. She had said more than she'd meant to about her nightmare, but both Mike and Archie had accepted it at face value. She assumed that they believed she had dreamed about being raped, which would explain why they hadn't pressed her. It also explained the murderous expression on Mike's face; he only looked that way on the rare occasion when that subject came up.

She had been surprised to discover how upset Mike was that she hadn't called him. She'd certainly never meant to hurt him, but it had honestly not occurred to her. And even if it had, she was not sure that she would have been able to face anyone right away.

It had been much worse with Mr. Gold. Aside from the obvious awkwardness of having had a nightmare about him, or rather his former self, Mike had called to tell him how irresponsible she had been. Mr. Gold had threatened to tell the council that she was not abiding by the rules that were set down so she could live on her own. She suspected that the threat was more a way for him to get her on her knees again than anything else. He had enjoyed that favor far too much the first time. Paige had intended to do that as infrequently as possible, but she hadn't quite dared to call his bluff today. He was entirely too likely to follow through on his threat out of sheer spite.

But as she and Mike headed home, her thoughts turned to the box that was waiting in her bathroom. Ruby worked until 8, but had promised to hurry over as soon as she was finished her shift. Paige had thought she would be okay by herself, but she was starting to feel nervous, and realized that she didn't want to be alone when she got the confirmation.

* * *

><p>Ruby held Paige's hand that night while she watched the seconds tick away. When the time was up, Paige reached for the indicator. She couldn't understand why she felt so apprehensive when she knew exactly what it would show.<p>

In spite of herself, Paige started to cry quietly when she saw the little plus sign. Ruby took Paige into her arms and rocked her, just as she had done with Ashley not so very long ago.

* * *

><p>Owen and Ryan rode out after what Tristan called a "brunch feast." It had been more like a late breakfast, but it did mean that they wouldn't have to stop until dinner. All of them had some food in their saddle bags; if they wanted, they could eat a little something while they rode. If they were able to return home as swiftly as they had traveled on the way to Tristan's palace, they would be only a few days longer than would normally be expected for a border inspection, and a few days would be much easier to explain than a week or more.<p>

Owen smiled at Sir Ryan and his squire; behind them rode his menservants. The mere dozen soldiers that they had brought along spread themselves around their king's party in a roving formation. Their eyes were watchful; no harm would come to the king on their watch, not unless they had all sold themselves dearly.

"I think she will like this one, Ryan," Owen said. The wide open sky held not a cloud, which only added to the king's good mood.

"That's what you said about the last one, sire," the knight teased. After letting the silence stretch out for a moment, he added, "But unlike last time, I agree with you on this one. This Andrew, he has potential. Not to mention the fact that he already understands the position he'll be in: royalty, but not a ruler."

"Indeed," Owen replied dryly. "Of course, I simply meant that I believe my daughter could love him."

Ryan laughed, and after a moment, Owen joined in.

* * *

><p>Paige stood at the counter, placing dried leaves into a cup of hot water to steep. Mr. Gold came into the kitchen, which made her stomach drop. She had known this moment was coming, and it would probably not be the only time this weekend, either. She almost wanted to curse Mike for going camping with Noah and his family. Apparently Will had begged that they spend the weekend in the snug little cabin Fawn and Noah owned out in the woods, and then further begged that his uncle join them.<p>

With Mike gone, Mr. Gold had to spend his nights here, where she was readily available to him. He had brought a whole pie from Granny's; Paige wished she knew how he had found out how much she loved Granny's blueberry pie. She glanced longingly at the slice she had cut to go with her tea, but she knew she wouldn't get to eat it any time soon.

He came up behind her and kissed her gently on the neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. He never left a mark on her, for which she was grateful. She couldn't imagine trying to explain a hickey to anyone, especially Mike.

Mr. Gold turned Paige in his arms so that she faced him and not the counter. He kissed her; she returned the kiss, but only because he had warned her that he expected some reaction. Her efforts were only halfhearted at best.

His hands trailed up her sides as he pulled her t-shirt over her head. Her hips were trapped between his hips and the counter, and he was certainly happy to see her. Once her shirt was on the floor, he put his hands back on her sides, tracing the bottom edge of her bra around to the back. His fingers were deft with the little hooks, and soon her bra was on the floor as well.

It hadn't been that long since he had arrived; he had only taken off his suit jacket when he came in. Now his tie fell to the kitchen floor, joining Paige's shirt and bra. She felt his hands brush against her breasts as he unbuttoned his shirt, and then it was on the floor as well, followed quickly by his thin undershirt. His skin felt warm against Paige's nipples as he embraced her again.

Over her shoulder, he noticed how the full moon lit up the garden. "Come out into the garden, dear. I think you'd look lovely by moonlight." When she hesitated, he added, "You don't have any neighbors who can see this side of the house, my dear. No one will see. And don't worry, I'll keep you warm."

There was really nothing Paige could do but let him lead her out the back door. She shivered as the cool air touched her bare breasts. Mr. Gold led her across the yard to the fountain, where he intended to lay her down on the grass. Paige wished she had grabbed a blanket or a towel, anything to put between her and the chilly ground. But from the look in Gold's eyes, it was far too late for that, so once her jeans were removed, she spread them out as best she could and lay down. She was surprised when Gold tucked his folded pants under her head. He could afford another suit, sure, but Paige would never have expected him to be so casual about possibly ruining his pants like this.

He had left her panties on; he sometimes liked to touch her through the thin fabric. It felt good, but she tried to resist, even though she knew it wouldn't work. There was something about doing this outside that made it seem more forbidden, which for some reason made it almost impossible to put up any decent resistance. Not that doing it inside gave her any success, but she was able to hold off the inevitable orgasm a lot longer when she didn't fear being caught.

He pulled off her panties, and when she felt his tongue hit the sweet spot, she knew her resistance had ended almost before it began.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter spans the two weeks between "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" and "Desperate Souls," but does not include "Desperate Souls."

For the purposes of my story only, the Wolfs of the Wolfswood are half-human and half-wolf, and have always been at war with both humankind and true wolves. These creatures are always referred to with a capital, and the plural of Wolf is always Wolfs. This is to help avoid confusion, as true wolves are rather touchy about the subject and would prefer that the creatures be called something less similar to their own species name. More on them in another chapter, though…

And I would like to make it clear that Paige's nightmare was the product of her own imagination. It is born of her horror and disgust at discovering who she had really made out with for her first time. The dream was not sent by Rumpelstiltskin/Mr. Gold; the fact that he was the only one in the dream who could see her was a product of her fear and the fact that she feels powerless against him in this world…

Reviews are like sunshine: they make me smile!


	8. S1 Ch8 - Love In The Wild

Sorry this took so long! It's partly because I was sick last week, but also, I had started out with a very different story for the Fairy Tale part, but it just wasn't meshing very well with the things I had planned for Storybrooke, so I pulled what I had of the Fairy Tale stuff and saved it for a later chapter, and wrote this storyline. I wasn't intending to use it quite so soon, but as it turns out, it makes for a better Valentine's Day story, lol!

As usual, I only own the characters I have created.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Despite knowing the forest better, the Wolf had ended up in a vale with only one way out. Tristan's fury and the Wolf's wounds had left it reeling, causing its instincts to take over completely. Without that semi-human intelligence Wolfs normally displayed, it had not planned ahead, nor had it taken any notice of its surroundings, and now it was trapped. Crown Prince Tristan, at the tender age of 17, had always found it disconcerting that Wolfs walked more often on two legs, like a man; although they could, and often did, revert to four legs when they wanted speed.<p>

Tristan called to his men, but when there was no answer, he realized that they must not have been able to keep up with him. He reached for the hunting horn on his hip, but was dismayed to find only torn leather straps. Even his scabbard was gone, which made him glad he had not bothered to sheathe his sword as he pursued the beast.

He knew he should retreat to the vale's entrance and try calling to his men from there, but Tristan feared that pure desperation would enable the Wolf to find some escape. Already it was flinging itself up the steep, rocky sides of the vale, frantically seeking some path to climb.

As he tried to creep toward the frenzied creature, he stepped on a small stick fallen from some tree. The resulting _snap!_ caused the Wolf to turn toward him, wary. Its face had just enough human in it to be unsettling, the more so for the pure terror in its expression. But this creature had been responsible for his father's death two and a half years ago, and it was an abomination besides. Unlike a human, a Wolf could not mend its ways and become a productive part of society. They only understood violence and fear. Although, Tristan realized with a slight snort of black humor, they seemed unaccustomed to _being_ afraid.

After a moment of staring at each other, they attacked simultaneously. Tristan used his sword to block a double-pawed, over-the-head swing from the Wolf, deeply cutting one of its paws, but the move left the Wolf's fearsome jaw unhindered; it closed its teeth on the front of his right shoulder, snapping his collarbone in half. It was fortunate that he had been holding his sword in both hands, or he would have dropped it, and that would have been the end of him. But with his right arm nearly useless from the pain, and the sword still at the top of its upward arc, he switched his left hand to put the sword in a reverse grip and stabbed downward with all his might. The Wolf, in the meantime, had pulled back slightly for another bite; its jaws snapped at the very moment the sword drove into its back, so instead of ripping out Tristan's throat, the Wolf's powerful jaws bit less deeply than it intended. Man and Wolf fell to the ground. Tristan, his sword falling from his limp hand, rolled away from the Wolf as he hit. Both were still alive, but not for long. The Wolf made a whining sound as the wound in its back bled out. Another darkly humorous thought occurred to Tristan: because his throat had been torn open, every breath drew a wheezing, bubbling sound that seemed to parody the Wolf's whining. _I guess even humans die like animals, sometimes,_ he thought, hearing the Wolf's soft whine even over the gurgling sounds his own dying body was making.

He heard a noise over by the Wolf, and it yelped, then whined softly again before falling silent. Had it died? He wanted to turn his head, but his muscles wouldn't respond. He stared straight up at the sky, a white haze flickering at the edges of his vision, slowly working toward the center. A bird flew across the remaining portion of the cloudless sky.

Suddenly, a face appeared in his hazy vision. Was he hallucinating as he died? She was beautiful, with shimmering skin and golden hair. The mouth moved, but although he heard a dim voice, it was too far away for him to understand. He thought he felt something at his throat, and panic allowed his muscles to move, convulsing in one final, futile attempt to escape. The pain, which he had not noticed before, was excruciating. Tristan knew no more.

* * *

><p>Emma coughed and shook her head as she left Gold's shop. She really hoped she could get that smell out of her nose soon; that stuff was rank! Looking around, she saw Paige coming down the sidewalk, carrying a bag of what looked like cleaning supplies.<p>

"Hey, Paige," Emma called.

When Paige had reached the spot near the pawnshop where Emma had waited, Paige put the bag down. **Hi, Emma! What are you doing out this way?**

"Oh, Gold put in a call, wanted to extend his condolences for Graham. And he offered me a keepsake," she said, smiling wryly as she held up the walkie-talkies she had accepted.

**Ah,** signed Paige, **I know he was trying to figure out what to do with Graham's things. **She paused for a moment, then asked, **Is he still using the lanolin in there?**

"Yeah," Emma replied, making a face. "That stuff reeks."

**It doesn't usually bother me,** Paige signed, **but for some reason it's been making me feel sick today.**

Emma gave Paige a considering look. She remembered a time when she had been oversensitive to smells that hadn't bothered her before. But that lanolin stuff _was_ pretty bad. Maybe Gold was just using more of it than usual today, and Paige couldn't take it.

Paige didn't seem to notice Emma's measuring look. She made a face as she reluctantly signed, **Well, I guess I should go back in there. It was nice to see you again, Emma! **Picking up her shopping bag, Paige waved and went into the pawnshop.

Emma waved back before getting into the sheriff's car. She hadn't met this Mike that Paige had talked about at the funeral, but if the mute girl really was pregnant, he must be the father. The glowing way Paige had talked about him made her feelings for him quite clear. But something about this whole situation seemed fishy. Emma frowned, wishing she knew more about what was going on here. Then she sighed, shaking her head as she drove away.

* * *

><p>Paige smiled at Henry as she left Dr. Hopper's office that evening. He looked sad, which rather was unusual for him. Even though the boy had never spoken to her, she was almost starting to feel as if she knew him. They frequently passed each other in this little waiting room. She supposed that, even though Henry could have had therapy sessions right after school, his mother probably wanted him to have time to work on his homework beforehand, and from what Paige had heard, Regina took him out to dinner before some of his sessions.<p>

Even though Regina wasn't his biological mother, Paige hoped the boy appreciated what he had. The mayor really seemed to care about him, and that kind of thing, as Paige well knew, could disappear almost literally overnight.

She was surprised to hear Henry say, "Um, excuse me."

Paige and Mike both turned back to the boy, who had stood up and was slinging his ever-present backpack over one shoulder.

"Yes?" asked Mike.

"How come you're always both in with Archie?" Henry asked. "I thought therapy was supposed to be one-on-one."

Paige looked at Mike, who was already starting to explain. "My friend Paige here is mute. She can't speak. The council required her to start therapy, but since Doctor Hopper doesn't understand sign language, they asked me to attend her sessions with her. She signs, and I interpret for Archie."

"Oh," said Henry, digesting this bit of information. He was mentally trying to go through his story book to see if he could remember any stories about a girl who couldn't speak. Then he realized that he hadn't introduced himself. "I'm Henry, by the way."

"My name's Mike, and this Paige."

Henry looked back and forth between them. "Nice to meet you," he said, smiling. Then he thought for a moment before asking, "How come she can't talk?"

Paige signed something to Mike, who translated it. "Some bad men hurt her, and ever since she hasn't been able to make a sound." Paige, noting Henry's look of distress, signed again. Mike watched her hands, speaking even while she was still signing. "It was a long time ago. She still can't talk, but she isn't as sad and scared as she used to be. She says she's found some really great people to take care of her." Mike smiled, a tear in his eye. The only part he had not translated was the part where Paige had signed that Mike was one of those wonderful people.

"That's good," smiled Henry, looking pensive. "It's always good to know you've got friends who'll take care of you." He looked through the door to where he could see Archie beckoning him. "I have to go. See you later."

* * *

><p>When they got back to the house, Paige signed, <strong>Could you come inside with me? I – I need to talk to you. <strong>Her hands were hesitant; the idea of having this conversation terrified her, but it had to be done sooner or later.

"Sure," said Mike, turning off the car. The rain had stopped, so Paige didn't bother to wait for Mike to bring the umbrella around to her door. Her heart pounded as if she were running for her life instead of calmly crossing the porch to unlock her front door.

Mike was only moments behind her. They both kicked off their wet shoes on the porch so they wouldn't track mud and water inside. Paige, who was normally a very conscientious hostess, went straight to the couch and sat down without even offering Mike anything to drink. It was this that caused Mike to finally pick up on her body language.

"What's wrong, Paige?" When she seemed unable to answer, Mike realized that he couldn't remember ever seeing her this unsure of herself. Even when the council was threatening to revoke her right to live on her own, she had never been at such a complete loss for words. "Paige?" he said softly, putting a hand out to tilt her face up so he could see her eyes. She was fighting back tears.

"You have to tell me what's wrong, Paige," he said, feeling as if a cold fist had grasped his heart. Something had to be seriously wrong here. "I can help you. We'll get through this, Paige. Together."

Paige bit her lip. **It's so hard; I don't know how to say it.**

"How can I make this easier for you?"

**Promise you won't say anything until I'm finished?**

"That's easy enough. Not one word."

**And…and please try not to judge, either. **Paige felt herself blush at that; she _really_ didn't want Mike to know about this. But there were consequences in life; she had signed the contract in another world, knowing she would end up pregnant, and now she had to deal with the results.

Mike said, "I'll try." Paige was worrying him; what could be so bad that she thought he might judge her harshly or unfairly?

Paige took a deep breath. Where to begin? Should she just say that she was pregnant, or lead up to it by admitting what happened between her and Mr. Gold? **Something…has happened to me. I'm…I'm pregnant.**

"What?" Mike felt like the couch had just fallen out from under him. "How?"

**Please,** Paige signed, **just let me finish. **When Mike had murmured an apology, she continued. **You remember back when your mother was convinced that I'd kidnapped the mayor's son, Henry? **Mike nodded. **Well, not that night, but the night after, when you still couldn't come back to the house, I was so upset. I knew how hard it was for you to see your mother like that, and I was still hurt by her accusations. I got scared. I was afraid you might decide that your mother's mental health was more important to you than my being able to live on my own. And if you had made that choice, I could never blame you for that. But I was terrified that I was about to lose you forever. And I was upset, and crying, and Mr. Gold was trying to comfort me, and, well, things just…kind of…happened.**

Mike's mouth opened and closed a few times. "You mean you – with Mr. Gold?" He didn't want believe that this could have happened. When Paige nodded, blushing, a new thought came to Mike. His voice was hard as he asked, "Did he force himself on you?"

**No! It wasn't like that, Mike. Don't you think I would have reported him long ago if he had forced me? **Mike didn't know that she couldn't speak ill of Mr. Gold, so this was a perfect defense. **Especially after what I've already been through,** she added.

"Are you sure, Paige? If he's hurt you in any way…" Mike left that thought unfinished. He felt his teeth grinding as he thought of Paige and Mr. Gold – no. He so did not want _that_ mental picture.

Paige hadn't wanted to go this far in her lies, but she knew she had to try to calm Mike's anger. **No, Mike. It was… it was my fault. I was just looking for comfort, and before I knew it, we were…well, you know. When we woke up the next morning he was so embarrassed. He said he never should have let things go that far.**

Reluctantly, Mike let go of his assumption that Paige would only have had sex with Mr. Gold if he had forced her. "Alright. So. You're… pregnant?"

**Yeah. I took one of those home pregnancy tests, and it was positive.** Paige met Mike's eyes.

When he saw how nervous she still was, he was sad to realize that she had been afraid that he would not want anything to do with her if she admitted this. He took her hand, saying, "Paige, I will never stop being there for you. No matter what happens. Even…even something like this. It was a one-time mistake, and how can I blame you for being upset? We all do stupid stuff when we're upset."

Paige cringed inwardly when he called it a one-time mistake. She prayed he would never realize that it was much more than that. It was an on-going ordeal for her, and she wished she had the power to put a stop to it.

"So. What are we going to do about this?" Mike felt as if he might no longer have a place in Paige's life.

**Well, I don't want anyone to know whose baby this really is.**

"What do you mean, Paige?"

**Well, it would hurt my reputation, but it would hurt Mr. Gold's as well. Most people in this town already despise him, and he's been so good to me. I don't want to give the town another reason to hate him. So…I was kind of hoping – I mean, can we just say it's yours?**

"Mine?" Mike was incredulous; him, a father?

**I mean, if you don't want to, I understand, but everyone already thinks we're a couple. And if things do change between us, well, that happens to couples all the time, right?**

He had worried that Paige would want to raise the baby with Mr. Gold, and that she would no longer need someone like Mike in her life. The thought had made him sad, so to find out that Paige wanted him to have an even bigger part in her life should have been a good thing. But Mike was still a little apprehensive about playing the father-figure to someone else's baby. Then he looked into Paige's eyes, and saw that tender nervousness still there, along with a desperate plea that touched him deeply. "Alright, Paige. I'll do it."

Paige flung herself into Mike's arms. Her tears now were happy ones, but they were mixed with the guilt of having lied to him.

* * *

><p>Darkness. A brief glimpse of green leaves swaying in a slight breeze. Then darkness. The leaves again; how could they stay together like that when they weren't on a tree? Darkness. This time, the leaves made more sense; he was lying on his back under the tree! In a sudden flash of drowsy insight, Tristan thought to himself, <em>trees are not shaped like trees when you're underneath them.<em>

This time, the darkness did not last as long, nor did it seem quite as dark. _My eyes are opening. That's a good sign,_ Tristan thought, but was puzzled to discover that he could not imagine why he was so fascinated by such a perfectly natural function.

"You awake," came a soft, dusky voice. It reminded him of river rapids in the spring: wild and free, but with a hint of the danger that excess snowmelt and spring rains could bring without any notice. She didn't sound like a naiad, their voices actually sounded like moving water, but the image would not leave his head. Tristan vividly remembered the time he and his brother took a boat down through a canyon full of such rapids one spring. If not for the naiads who were cavorting gleefully among the submerged rocks, Andrew would have drowned in the flash flood. It was terrifying in a way, but the tense excitement borne of fear, paired with Nature's riotous and untamed beauty, had been exhilarating in its own way. This voice had somehow recalled that encounter to his mind.

"How feel you, son of man?" The voice was even more intriguing this time.

Turning his head, Tristan opened his mouth to speak, but as he saw the woman's dappled skin and looked into her brownish-orange eyes, he forgot what he was going to say. Instead he swallowed, never even wondering how he had gotten here.

"Be you cold? Hot?" When she still got no answer, she made a slight noise of frustration. She rose from the small fire she had built and crossed the short distance to the young man lying under the tree.

She knelt beside him and leaned down. At first Tristan thought she was going to kiss him, but instead she turned her head so that her cheek hovered just over his forehead without actually touching his skin. Though her hair seemed to be tied back, a few golden strands had escaped to caress his cheek. "No fever," she murmured as she pulled back. "That is well." She regarded him frankly. "You are young to be hunting such dangerous prey. And a prince, I betoken," she added, fingering the gold circlet that had fallen from his brow.

Dangerous prey? Hunting? As Tristan pondered these words, everything suddenly came back to him. He leaped up, looking around wildly for the Wolf. He saw it lying on the far side of the woman's fire, and he saw his sword lying a few feet away from him, tacky with drying blood. Inwardly he winced; that really should have been cleaned as soon as it was blooded.

He ran, snatching up his sword and throwing himself toward his enemy. But as fast as he had moved, the golden-haired woman was there first, throwing herself between the point of the sword and the Wolf's prone, but still breathing, form.

"Out of my way, woman. This Wolf must die!"

"That is something I will not allow. His kind, their bodies do not have this immediate revival of yours. 'Tis a thing of humankind, but I beg you to trust me when I say that you must yet pay the price for this healing." Her voice, like her face, was utterly calm. Tristan had had so much momentum that he had almost been unable to stop, so the tip of his sword dimpled the tender flesh just below her ribcage. He stared at her for a moment, unbelieving, before hesitantly lowering his sword.

"I will kill that creature. I must!" Emotions flowed across his face almost too fast for her to take in; despite her enhanced senses, she did not have much contact with humans. Their emotions were as foreign to her as walking is to a fish. "How can you defend it?"

"This is a creature of the forest. My sisters and I are sworn to protect all creatures of the forest, including your kind. If the situation were reversed, I would protect you from the Wolf." Her gaze was intense as she gauged his reaction to the healing. He was stronger than most, otherwise he would have collapsed by now.

"Well isn't that comforting." Tristan's sarcasm was so thick that the woman, as unfamiliar with the ways of humans as she was, could not mistake it for anything else. Before she could respond, he continued. "That thing is an abomination."

"If a mother has an unruly child, does she cease to love it? Neither does the forest turn its back upon even its foulest of creatures, however they came about. The circle of life thrives on both the good and the foul. If there were no sorrow in this world, what could joy possibly mean to us? Without evil, we would never need to strive for good. Everything loses its meaning if there is nothing to oppose it. Good health cannot be precious when there is neither sickness nor injury with which to compare it." Her voice had become passionate; Tristan could see how strongly she believed in what she was saying.

"Still," the Crown Prince said, "that thing killed my father. Am I to have no justice for that?"

"Can you not find forgiveness in your heart, o prince? Whatever this creature has done, it has only fulfilled its nature. It had no choice. But you do. Will you, in all your vaunted humanity, stoop to the level of one which you see only as a mindless beast, or can you soften your heart and let this pain of yours flow away?" She could hardly believe that the youth was still standing; she didn't know much of humans, it was true, but she knew that he should be feeling the weakness any time now. She had expected it to come much sooner. Perhaps she should ask her sister about it; Enéh had spent a fair amount of time with a human before.

"I…I don't…know. What you mean." Tristan put a hand to his head; where had this sudden dizziness come from? "What – what is your name?"

The prince collapsed to the forest floor. As his eyes began to close, he saw her once again bending over him. "Ayala," she said, her voice sounding soft as he faded into unconsciousness.

Ayala kept a careful watch for nearly an hour before the Wolf's eyes opened. With all the wariness of a wild animal, it snarled savagely as it spied its enemy. As with Tristan, Ayala stood between them. She spoke not a word; she didn't need to with this creature. Their locked gazes told each other everything they needed to know. After a long moment, the Wolf turned and loped away.

The dapple-skinned woman checked Tristan for his scabbard. She knew swords were supposed to go in scabbards, but she couldn't find one. She could only assume that the torn leather belt meant that he had lost it. The sword would have to be left behind; she would be in no state to carry it.

She removed the woven square tied over her bosom, as well as the fabric tied around her hips as a short skirt. Kneeling by the prince's prone form, she leaned over and breathed into his face. "Get up, on your knees young prince," she said softly. When he was kneeling next to her, still unconscious, she put her hands to the ground, draping the fabric she had been wearing across her back as she turned so her side would face the already-wavering prince. She was just in time; he fell across her back. His hand brushed her arm, and with that touch, she became a beautiful golden doe. With Tristan draped over her back, the doe trotted out of the vale where the prince had nearly died.

* * *

><p>"I could not leave him there as prey for the next hungry animal to come along." The anger in Ayala's voice sent shivers down Tristan's spine as he woke. This was the flash flood, the danger of nature's beauty.<p>

"And no one is saying you should have," came another voice, this one sweet and almost pleading.

"Speak for yourself, Niabi. This one lives outside the forest; we are only required to care for creatures of the forest. Not these fools who left its protection to tear down trees for their ridiculous palaces." The third voice sounded like a woman who was accustomed to getting her own way.

"Isi! Is it right to abandon them simply because they left the forest?" Here was yet another female voice.

Tristan wondered how many women were there. And were they all like the golden beauty Tristan had seen before? What was her name? Thinking hard, Tristan didn't realize that he spoke the name aloud once he remembered it. "Ayala."

"You told him your name?" The one who had been called Isi whirled on Ayala, furious.

"There is no reason not to tell them our names. They should know them, after all. There are only five Golden Hinds." This was yet another new voice.

Tristan opened his eyes and saw that the new voice spoke true. Five women, all dressed in swatches of fabric twined or tied around their feminine parts. The fabric only covered the very basics of things; Tristan blushed to see so much flesh in one place. He was fascinated by the way their stomachs were muscled. He had never realized before just how differently a woman's muscles were put together.

The most recent voice said, "Do not be afraid, man-child. We will not harm you, no matter what some might imply." She raised an eyebrow at the one who looked oldest. They all had golden hair, but cut at different lengths. They all had the same dappled skin and brownish-orange eyes, except for one that looked like she might have been Tristan's age; hers were more orange, with a hint of brown around the outside of the iris.

"Call me…Tristan." Talking was an effort for him.

"That is a strong name," the same woman said. "Here, I will introduce you to us all. That is Isi, the eldest." She gestured to the one who had spoken so strongly against him. Isi's hair hung halfway down her back, and she wore slightly more modest clothing than the rest, although that wasn't saying much. She sneered openly at him. "This is Enéh, the second-born." She indicated the woman standing next to her, whose hair was almost boyishly short and who looked at him with something akin to longing in her eyes. "You already know our third sister, Ayala." His eyes found her easily. Her hair hung to her hips, and she kept it in a long tail, but unlike any he had ever seen before. It was gathered and tied between her shoulder blades, not close to her head as a human would have done. "I am Zibia, the fourth sister." Her hair just brushed her shoulders, and she wore the skimpiest outfit of all of them. "And our littlest sister is Niabi," Zibia finished, indicating the one who looked his own age. She wore quite a long skirt, almost brushing the forest floor, but as it was tied at her right hip, a long stripe of that leg showed all the way up. Her hair was by far the longest; it was nearly as long as her skirt, and she wore it unbound. They were all barefoot.

"You…You're all…sisters?" He wished his voice would cooperate with him; he didn't like feeling the fool in front of these exotic women. But then he remembered that Ayala had warned him that he must pay the price for being healed.

"Yes, we are," Ayala answered, stepping forward. "We are the five Golden Hinds, keepers of the forests. We are –"

"Sworn…to protect the…creatures…of the forest," Tristan managed before he had to pause for a longer breath. "I remember."

Ayala's warm smile made Tristan's heart beat faster. But what could this beautiful creature ever see in a mere mortal? Especially one who did not make his home in the forest. He looked quickly away, not wanting any of the sisters to notice his feelings.

The eldest sister, Isi, gave a derisive snort. "It is time to move on, Ayala. He cannot stay here. Find some farmstead or woodcutter's cabin where you can leave him. We're going in the morning."

"He won't be recovered enough to be moved by then. You were not there, you did not see how long he was able to remain conscious. You know how that affects their eventual full recovery." Ayala sounded concerned, almost wildly so. Tristan wished he could see the look on her face.

Isi rounded on her sister. "If we continue to stay here, we risk damaging the balance. We cannot let that happen if we are to truly protect the forests."

Niabi's orange eyes were sympathetic as she cut in. "Isi's right, Ayala. It is what we must do."

Zibia, the one who had introduced the sisters to Tristan, stood off to one side, smirking. It pleased her to see Ayala being taken down a peg for once. There was no way she was going to say anything. Things were far too interesting as they were if even Niabi was siding against Ayala.

"Perhaps we can reach a compromise," Enéh said. Her face was carefully blank. "Perhaps Ayala could remain here with the young man until he is sufficiently recovered, and then find a suitable place where he can gain strength until he is able to return to his home. Once she has done so, she can catch up with us."

"Don't think I don't know why you're doing this, Enéh," Isi hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "A clean break is best. You should understand that."

Enéh flinched slightly, but insisted, "If we move him too soon he will die anyway. That would belittle Ayala's choice to save him, even though it was not such a perilous decision for her as it could have been for the rest of us." Ayala looked away, embarrassed. She did not always like to be reminded that she was better at healing than her sisters; it felt too prideful. But before she felt too uncomfortable, Enéh continued. "And it would also be against our very nature. Even though they do not all live inside its boundaries, humans are still creatures of the forest. Will you scorn our purpose just because you think you know best, o eldest sister?"

Isi's lips thinned. "Very well," she spat. "But the rest of you, be ready to leave at first light." She stalked out of the glade where they had made their camp. Zibia's face was bitter as she followed Isi; of course Ayala had gotten her way again.

Niabi had huddled in on herself like a child forced to watch her parents fight. Without a word, Enéh and Ayala both folded their little sister into their arms. Tristan, his head still muddled, didn't fully understand what had just happened. It seemed that they had been fighting over what to do about him. But the tenderness on Ayala's face as she silently comforted her sister melted Tristan's heart, and he knew that he had fallen in love.

* * *

><p>Paige and Mike sat in the car for a moment. <strong>I'm nervous,<strong> Paige signed.

"Don't be, they'll love you." Mike touched Paige's arm. "But like we agreed, they don't need to know you're pregnant yet. We should wait until you've at least seen a doctor. And told Mr. Gold, of course."

This was the first time Mike had dropped that little bombshell. **Do we have to?**

"I think he has a right to know, Paige. Don't you?"

**I just…don't really want to have to tell him.**

"We can discuss it later, Paige," said Mike, a hint of irritation coming through in his voice. "Tonight let's just focus on dinner."

They got out of the car. Mike came around and took Paige's hand as they reached the door and rang the bell. Noah, smiling warmly, opened the door.

* * *

><p>"Paige says she'd like to know more about your family, Fawn." Mike, translating, wished he had remembered to suggest that Paige not bring this up at their first meeting, but it was a little late now.<p>

"Well," Fawn said, "I'm the third of five girls. We…fought a lot growing up, some of us more than others."

"And I'm afraid Fawn was the only one of the Argent girls who ever liked me," Noah added wryly.

"Noah! You know very well that Delle and Skye have no problem with you. They just don't come around much because neither of them wants to put up with Winona's attitude, and I can't blame them. I'm the one who married you, not them." Turning to Paige, Fawn explained, "Delle, or really Asphodelle, is the second-born, and Skye is the youngest. Winona is the oldest."

"Asphodelle is an unusual name," Mike translated for Paige.

"My dad liked Native American names, so he named his first daughter Winona. But Mom insisted that she choose the names for any other girls they had, and he could name their sons. Well, they ended up not having any sons. Anyway, Mom named the rest of us after things in nature. So there's Winona, Asphodelle, Fawn, Petunia, and Skye. But hey, we've never met anyone else with the same names as any of us," Fawn joked.

Getting back to his original point, Noah said, "Well, dear, we both know that Winona hates me, and you've told me yourself how Petunia has always been jealous of you."

"Well, after our parents died, Winona felt it was her place to take care of the rest of us. So far, I'm the only one who's gotten married, and obviously, she doesn't think Noah here is good enough for me," Fawn told Paige, ignoring her husband's comment about Petunia. This was neither the time nor the place to air her grievances against her two most troublesome sisters. Reaching out to touch her husband's arm, she said to him, "But of course, I know better."

Bored with all the grown-up talk going on, Will said loudly, "Can I go play now?"

"Finish up your steak and have a few more bites of broccoli, Will," Fawn replied.

Her son pouted a little bit, and would have complained, but he caught sight of Paige smiling at him. He eyed her almost suspiciously as she spooned some more mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"Fawn, everything is delicious," Mike said. When Paige signed to him, he added, "Paige says so, too."

The talk turned to less awkward things, like the upcoming debate and election. When they were finished with dinner, Paige tried to help clear the dishes from the table, but Fawn insisted that she was a guest and had no business helping with the cleanup.

Paige stood for a moment, unsure what to do with herself. Mike was helping out, so she didn't exactly have anyone to talk to. She was surprised when little Will grabbed her hand and led her into the family room.

"Uncle Mike said you can't talk," he stated. When Paige shook her head to show that she really couldn't, he asked, "How Uncle Mike know what you thinking?"

Paige signed to him, knowing that he wouldn't understand what she was saying, but hoping that the demonstration would be enough.

"You can talk wif your hands?" The boy looked both surprised and intrigued.

Smiling, Paige nodded. Before she could wonder how else she could try to communicate with the child, he asked, "Do you like crayons?"

Paige nodded again, her smile widening. Will led her over to the coffee table, where he must have been coloring before dinner. Sitting down on the floor, he picked up a clean sheet of paper for Paige and put the box of crayons between them. When Paige sat down beside him, he said, "Make your fav'it aminal." Paige smiled, finding his mispronunciations cute. She drew a peacock with a large tail fanned out behind it, thinking of her bitter-sweet past.

After exclaiming over her paper, although Paige suspected that Will didn't really know much about peacocks, the boy showed her the family of puppies he had drawn. "This is the daddy puppy," he said, pointing to the biggest one, "and he's the biggest 'cuz he's the daddy. This is the mommy puppy," he indicated the one drawn in pink crayon, "and she likes to cook foods. And this one is the baby puppy, and his name is Will."

"There you are, Paige," Mike said as he came into the room. "I was wondering where you got to." Noah and Fawn were right behind him.

"You're not pestering the poor girl, are you Will?" Noah asked, teasing his son.

"Nuh-uh, she drawed with me," the boy replied, taking both papers over to his parents. "Look, it's a puppy family. I made them. She drawed a big blue bird with a really big tail feather!"

Laughing, Fawn said, "Oh, they're both wonderful! That bird she drew is called a peacock, Will."

"Peek-on?" the boy asked.

"No, peacock. It has a 'k' sound at the end of it, kh." Fawn smiled approvingly as Will tried to mimic the word.

Meanwhile, Noah said to Paige, "I hope he didn't say anything rude while we weren't here."

"She says he asked her if she really couldn't speak, and about how I could understand her," Mike translated.

"I do apologize if he offended you. We told him about your…disability, and that he shouldn't say anything about it," Noah said.

"Not at all," Mike said, reading Paige's hands. "She says it's perfectly normal for children to ask about these things. It's how they learn. And she says he wasn't rude about it in the least." He didn't translate the part where Paige said she didn't particularly consider her condition to be a disability, and was glad when she didn't press the issue. He would say something to his brother about it later.

"That's good," Noah said, but whatever else he was going to say was cut off by a grunt as Will jumped onto his lap, trying to copy the peacock call his mother had been entertaining him with.

* * *

><p>Isi and Zibia walked away without even saying farewell to their sister. Niabi hugged Ayala, then ran at a sharp call from Isi. Enéh, however, stayed a moment longer.<p>

"I wish you luck," Enéh said softly.

"Luck in what, sister?" Ayala pretended not to know what Enéh meant.

Smiling, Enéh said, "If you can find a way to stay with him, do not hesitate. I will never forgive myself for listening to Isi. I never even tried to stay with my mortal love." Sadness touched her features; the man she had fallen for had long since died. "Even though he will die someday and you will live on, it is better to lose love that way than by giving up on it. I know."

"Isi would never forgive me," Ayala murmured.

"No. But can you live with yourself if you let her dictate your choices?"

"How do you manage, Enéh?" Ayala was torn. How could she choose between her sisters and her newfound love?

"Barely." Enéh wiped a tear from her face. "I made my choice, and now there is nothing to do but live with it. But not a day goes by that I do not hate myself for giving up so easily."

In the distance, Isi gave another sharp call. Enéh said, "I chose my sisters, so now I must do my duty by them." Putting a hand on Ayala's shoulder, she added, "All of them." In a swift embrace, she whispered, "Choose well, sister mine!" Then she turned and ran gracefully in the direction of her other sisters. Ayala watched until none of them were in sight, then went back to the glade where Tristan lay.

"Where have they gone," Tristan asked. His voice was stronger today, and he was glad to find that he didn't have to stop for breath as often.

"They have gone on ahead." Realizing that Tristan wouldn't know what she meant, Ayala explained further. "We rove through the forests, stopping only for a short time in any one place. Like any other creature, we consume the natural resources of the forest. So if we stay anywhere for too great a time, it would disrupt the natural balance of the area. We would not be very good caretakers if we left any part of the forest unable to support its natural population of creatures."

"I see," Tristan said. It was not easy for him to concentrate in his weakened state, but he did get the gist of her explanation. "And you are…staying with me?"

"You are still too weak to be moved, Tristan," she replied, gazing tenderly at him.

"I'm glad. I was hoping to spend more time with you." When she turned her face away, Tristan thought he saw the start of a blush. Could she truly have feelings for him? No matter how harshly he told himself to stop imagining things, he could not quell the seeds of hope growing in his chest.

* * *

><p>After nearly a week, Tristan was on his feet again. He couldn't run yet, but he could walk a bit before needing to stop, and he could talk for hours without having problems. And he'd had many long conversations with the beautiful Ayala. Every moment, he fell deeper in love with her. He knew she would eventually see him back to humanity and then find her sisters, but he prayed that moment wouldn't come soon.<p>

He made his way from the makeshift bed to the small fire across the glade. The bed was no more than a pile of fallen leaves and sticks with a thick moss growing on top of it. It didn't sound like something that would be very comfortable, but the Golden Hinds had perfected the art of using what the forest no longer needed to make something that they, in their human forms, could use. He didn't understand quite how they got the moss to grow over the pile, or what kept the sticks from poking him while he slept, but even if it could not be called magic, it was certainly a wonder.

Ayala had been gone when he awoke, but that was not so unusual. She was likely out gathering supplies; she had taken to going further out into the forest so as to preserve this area's balance. She had left him plenty of water in a large, tightly-woven basket. He had never realized that a basket could hold water, but as Ayala had explained to him, even their youngest sister had seen hundreds of years pass. The sheer amount of things that could be learned and created in such a time was staggering.

As Ayala had taught him, Tristan used a pair of seasoned-wood tongs to take two of the stones that were warming in the fire pit and place them into the basket. After letting them warm the water for a few minutes, he removed them and put them back in the fire, repeating the process with other stones. Before long, the water began to steam in the cool morning air. Tristan first made himself a cup of the herbal tea that Ayala said would give him back his strength.

As he sipped, he thought of the Wolf. For the first time in two and a half years, the thought that the creature still breathed did not infuriate him. His grief for his father's death was unabated, but time would ease that wound. He found that he was still angry at the Wolf, but more in the way a farmer is angry at a tornado that has torn up his crops; though the farmer may curse the storm, he knows that there is nothing to do but start again and pray for a better crop. Tristan may not be able to start again with his father, but he could start living his life again. Vengeance was not in his nature, and it didn't have to be. He could be the man he needed to be, the king he needed to be, without having to hunt down the beast that killed his father.

He felt like a new man. Once he had finished his tea, he added a few more stones to heat the water again. Ayala had provided plenty of water, so he decided to go ahead and use it. He stripped off his somewhat ragged clothes and laid them aside, tearing off a piece of his tattered right sleeve to use as a washcloth. He had no soap, but it still felt good just to scrub off the layer of dirt and sweat he'd been living in. Once he was as clean as he felt he could manage without soap, he put his clothes into the rest of the water, scrubbing them as best he could. Wringing them out, he spread them over some low-hanging branches.

His skin had dried in the cool air while he washed his clothes, but his hair was still wet. Feeling a bit chilled, he went back to the bed, stumbling a bit. As he pulled the warm blanket over his nude body, he realized that he hadn't even considered what he would do if Ayala had come upon him without his clothes on! He was glad for the blanket, and for this lingering effect that had left him humble enough to rest without being told that he must. He chuckled. How childish, that he had never really listened to his body before. To keep pushing and pushing when it tried to tell him he had to stop. To sulk when told what to do by a doctor, or his mother, or some other concerned soul. With this thought in his head, Tristan dozed.

He could still hear the forest, but in new ways thanks to Ayala. He heard the call of the lark nesting on the ground by the large tree at the far side of the clearing. But now it was more; she was calling to her mate, signaling that it was safe for him to bring her food. He could also recognize the exuberance in their song which meant they were in flight rather than perched somewhere, and the soft conversations they had as they settled down for the night. He especially remembered the sweet song they had made once the eggs were safely laid. He would never see a lark again without remembering. A tear trickled out of his eye; he could keep only the things Ayala had taught him, not her. He could no more take her out of her forest than he could cage a lark; it would be too cruel.

He heard the soft sound of her approach; in a moment he had decided that he wanted to share just one kiss with her before he lost her forever. So he pretended to sleep, knowing that she would come to check on him. Shifting so his right arm stretched up around beside his head, he listened as she made her way into the glade. She righted the empty water basket that he had dumped, and checked the clothes that he had draped over the branches. Then she drew near the bed.

He kept his face still as she sat down next to him, holding his composure even as she leaned in so she could check for any fever. As her cheek hovered over his forehead, never touching, he let his eyes open just slightly. When she drew back, she turned to look at him, and he made his move. He leaned up into her, drawing his right arm around behind her as he went. Their lips touched – and suddenly, he was kissing a deer! A golden doe with delicate antlers stared back at him, her eyes so wide with shock that it would have been funny if he had seen it in a play.

He had never seen her deer form before. In one of their discussions, she had told him that all five of them could turn into deer, which enabled them to travel more swiftly. So why had she turned into one now? Had he startled her so badly that she did it without intending to? As he opened his mouth, the Hind darted out of the glade. "I'm sorry," he shouted, leaping up and staggering a few steps after it before collapsing to the ground, heedless of his nakedness.

* * *

><p>It was nearly nightfall before Ayala came back to find Tristan dressed in his cleaner, but still torn, clothes. He stared unhappily into the flames. He had tried to find water for himself, but hadn't gotten very far before realizing that he had to turn back. He still hated giving up like that, but his newfound maturity convinced him to return and wait for Ayala.<p>

Without a word, she handed him a full water skin, from which he drank deeply and gratefully. He watched her graceful movements as she set about preparing another cup of restorative tea for him. She had brought some nuts, berries, and vegetables for their supper, which she prepared while he drank the tea. He wanted desperately to speak, but nothing he could come up with seemed worth saying.

After they had eaten in silence, he finally decided that he had to say something, even if he knew it wouldn't express the things he truly felt. Ayala knew him pretty well by now; if his occasional awkwardness with words bothered her at all, it wasn't as if she hadn't already discovered it.

"I shouldn't…I mean, that was stupid of me." Tristan felt his face glowing in the firelight, but there was no point in avoiding this.

"Perhaps I should have explained what would happen," Ayala said softly. Tristan thought he heard regret and longing in her voice.

"Did you…want me to kiss you?" As soon as the question was spoken, he wished he had it back.

"I would have kissed you a thousand times, but that I knew how it would end," she whispered. "I have fallen in love with you, Tristan."

"And I love you, Ayala." Tristan felt tears starting in his eyes; she felt the same way!

"But you are mortal, and I am not. You have seen what happens when we touch."

"You mean – that would happen every time?" Tristan's joy fled as quickly as it had come.

"Yes. Every time mortal flesh touches mine in its human form, I will revert to a doe. Even just the lightest brush." She stared into the fire, not even wiping away the tears that flowed down her face.

"Is there no way we can –"

"No," Ayala interrupted. "No way has ever been found." After a pause, she added, "I've found a farmer who will take you in. He will carry a message to market so your palace people can find you and take you home. It's better this way, Tristan. A clean break is best. Oh, ye gods, Isi was right!" She began to really cry now.

Tristan wanted to comfort her, but he did not dare touch her again. He wanted to argue against going to the farmer, but he sensed that Ayala's pain was deeper than it seemed. "Why are you so upset?"

"After the way you saw me today, must you ask?" She hid her face in her hands.

"Your deer form is nothing to be ashamed of, my love," Tristan said, cherishing the term of endearment that he would probably never get to use again. "'Tis but a part of you, and I am in love with _you._ Not just the woman sitting before me, but the Golden Hind who is a loving and generous proctectress of the forest. A creature who is sometimes human and sometimes doe. I do not love you in spite of yourself. I love you _for_ yourself. Your passion, your drive, the way you watch the larks nesting by yonder tree. I love you, Ayala. I love _you._"

She reached out for him, but drew her hand back. "But there is no way, beloved."

A new voice floated eerily through the glade. "Oh, isn't there?" As Tristan and Ayala turned, Rumpelstiltskin, lounging casually on the makeshift bed, gave a high-pitched giggle.

* * *

><p>Paige headed down to the sheriff's office, hoping to find Emma there. When she saw her new friend sitting at the desk filling out paperwork, she took a deep breath to steel her nerves.<p>

Emma looked up when the door opened. "Paige! I didn't expect to see you here. Is everything alright?"

**Yeah, well, basically,** Paige signed, flustered. **I mean, it's personal business that brings me here, not…sheriff stuff.**

Emma tried to hide her smile. Sheriff stuff? "So…what can I do for you?"

**Well, I was thinking… I mean, I need someone to go to the doctor's with me, and I was kind of hoping you'd be willing?**

"Isn't there someone else who can take you? Like that Mike guy you couldn't stop talking about before? Or Gold? He's your legal guardian, right?" Emma didn't understand why Paige was coming to her.

**I need to see an OB/GYN. I really don't want to take a man into that. And you're the only woman I know who understands me. Ruby's great and all, but I have to text her everything, and sign language is faster. I mean, Ruby's the one who recommended the doctor I'm going to start seeing, but…it's kind of important.**

"Why? I mean, why start seeing a gyno now, of all times?"

**Because… I'm pregnant. **Paige bit her lips nervously. Now she would find out if her instincts about Emma were right or not. It was so strange that she felt she could put this much trust in a complete stranger. She hoped it wasn't just because Emma was the only woman in town who knew sign language.

"Oh. Wow. I…did not expect that." Suddenly, Emma remembered the incident outside Gold's shop earlier in the week. "Although I guess I should've realized when you said how much the lanolin was bothering you recently."

**And I'll vote for you, too,** Paige added.

"I certainly hope you're not going to vote for me just because I went to the doctor with you," Emma said wryly.

**Well, no, that's not my reasoning. I'll still vote for you even if you don't go. I mean, come on, Sidney Glass? He's a reporter. I don't care what beat he covered, he worked with the sheriff. He only knows the "good guy" side of things. You've worked with the bad guys, you have some idea of how they think. You're the obvious choice.**

Emma sat back in her chair. She had never thought of it that way before, but somehow she doubted others would see it the way Paige did. "Thanks," she said. "And I will go with you. But because you're my friend, not because of what you just said, okay?"

Smiling, Paige nodded. **I'll let you know when I get an appointment!**

* * *

><p>"You have to tell him, Paige." Mike couldn't believe how stubborn she was being. He had never seen her like this.<p>

**But why?** Paige asked. **No one knows that you and I haven't…that we aren't like that.**

"He helped create this child; don't you think he deserves to know? He might even be willing to help out financially, you never know."

**What if he doesn't want us to say that it's yours? What if he expects me raise the child with him? Or…marry him?** Paige managed to suppress the shudder at that thought; the last thing she needed right now was for Mike to start wondering again if Gold had forced her.

"If it comes down to it, we'll all three sit down and hash this out." Mike was trying to be patient, but it wasn't easy. "But for all you know, he might agree with your reasoning. You know his reputation is very important to him."

Even in the world that was, the man in front of her was the only one who had ever before talked her down from a bout of temper. Paige felt like a petulant child as she signed, **Can I at least wait to tell him until I've seen the doctor?**

"What if the doctor asks who the father is?"

**I'll tell him the truth,** Paige signed, knowing that she was giving in. **I'll say I didn't want to tell the father until I was absolutely sure.**

"So who's going to the doctor with you?" Mike half-expected her to say she planned to write notes to the doctor. It shouldn't have been funny, but the corners of Mike's mouth wouldn't stop twitching as he fought the laugh.

**I've already asked Emma. You know, the deputy who's running for sheriff? **

"Yeah, I don't think I've met her yet, but I know who you mean." He wasn't sure what Emma Swann had to do with anything.

**I made friends with her after Graham's funeral. She knows sign language. She said she'll go with me.**

Mike was surprised. He sat there for a moment, considering. "You might have to sign papers saying that she's allowed to receive medical information about you," he mused.

**Her being at the office shouldn't be a problem, Ruby asked her gynecologist about it. I don't see one right now, so Ruby recommended the guy she goes to. **Paige felt a little awkward about letting a strange man near those parts, but Ruby had assured her that he was very professional.

"Wait, Ruby knows?" Mike asked.

Paige bit her lip. **Yeah, she showed me how to get a test kit online. She also sat with me while I waited for the results. You're not mad, are you?**

"I'm assuming you didn't tell her who the father is?"

**No, I let her draw her own conclusions**

"Then how could I be mad? In fact, I'm glad you didn't have to do it all alone. Ruby's not really what I would have expected." Mike was thoughtful.

**She gets a lot of crap for just being herself. People make assumptions, label her. She doesn't deserve that.**

"I know exactly what you mean." Mike had never told her, but he'd had a lot of people ask rude questions about Paige, thinking that she was mentally incapacitated just because she couldn't speak. He put his arm around Paige and squeezed her gently, praying that he would never let her down.

* * *

><p>"I just need one little chunk of your antlers, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said to Ayala. "With that, I can make a potion that will allow you to touch and be touched by mortals without reverting." He chuckled. "However, this potion will only be in effect as long as you remain in human company. Should you return to your forests, it will begin to wear off. And it'll be much more difficult for you to willingly take on your deer form."<p>

"And what do you want, abomination?" Ayala's voice was unfriendly, but her nervous fidgeting gave her away. She wanted this deal, and badly.

"Ooh, abomination, is it," Rumpelstiltskin laughed.

"You became something unnatural. You are no longer a creature of the forest, Rumpelstiltskin. You chose a different path. I have no obligation to you." Ayala frowned.

"I'm not asking your protection, doll. I just want to know, do we have a deal, or do we not?" Rumpelstiltskin smirked at Ayala.

"You still haven't told me what you want." Ayala waved Tristan back; this was her decision, not his. It affected him, true, but she was the one the foul little imp wanted to deal with.

"I simply want to keep the leftover piece of antler, little hind. Nothing more." Rumpelstiltskin sneered at her, putting a hand to his ear. "What's that sound?" Ayala, not hearing anything unusual, did not deign to answer; Tristan followed her example. "My, my, my, sounds like a deal that fell in the water, swept down the river to the sea, never to be seen again. Choose well, missy, but choose fast. Before you miss your chance." He began walking out of the glade.

Ayala stood for a moment, stricken. To be with the man she loved, knowing that Rumpelstiltskin had some foul purpose in mind for that piece of her antler? Or to give in to her older sister? No, worse, to give up on her one chance at love! Before he could disappear, she bounded over to Rumpelstiltskin, crying, "We have a deal!" Without waiting for his reply, her body stretched smoothly into that of a golden doe, who stood docilely while Rumpelstiltskin, giggling softly, used a plain dagger to chip off a piece of her antler.

By the time she had resumed her human form, he had added one small chunk of it to a vial. Tucking the other piece into an inside pocket of his unusual jacket, he held the vial up to a cluster of leaves, collecting the dew they held. "It's going to need a mortal touch as well," Rumpelstiltskin sneered, handing the bottle to Tristan. "Let the potion touch your lips, but _do not drink it,_" he instructed. When Tristan had done so, Rumpelstiltskin took the bottle back. "I'd suggest you wipe that off now," he said, chuckling sinisterly.

Tristan ripped off another piece of sleeve, wiping furiously at his lips.

Handing her the vial, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Here you are, missy. Ta ta!" Waving his fingers, he backed away, fading into the shadowy trees at the edge of the little glade.

Ayala looked nervously at Tristan, then swallowed the contents of the vial. They stared at each other nervously for a moment, and then they rushed together, sharing a passionate kiss that left both of them breathless, but human.

* * *

><p><strong>Mr. Gold?<strong> Paige signed hesitantly before she left for the day.

"What is it, Paige," he asked distractedly. He was waiting for the results of the election to be announced, even though he knew that the polls were still open. As a matter of fact, Paige would be heading over to City Hall to cast her own vote as soon as she left. She hadn't said much after the debate earlier; he could tell she still intended to vote for Emma, but thought that he would be angry if he found out, which made him smile. She had no idea that she was doing exactly what he wanted.

**I had to make a doctor's appointment for next week, but the only thing they had was Monday, at four. Is there any way I could leave early that day? It's kind of important.**

"Well, I assume so, since this is your health we're talking about. But as you've pointed out in the past, I like to get something in return for doing people a favor." He paused a moment, watching her face. "I understand Michael will be working a double shift tomorrow, something about an ill co-worker?" Paige nodded hesitantly, not sure what he was driving at. "When you get off work tomorrow night, you can head straight home and make dinner. Since I close at six tomorrow, I'll join you as soon as I can. The council wouldn't like it if I left you there alone. And we'll have plenty of time to ourselves before young Michael gets home."

Paige couldn't argue; Mike would be gone until 10 or 11, and without Gold there, she would be alone for more than the four hour minimum the council had set. So she agreed. At least he hadn't demanded that she get on her knees and use her mouth on him.

Mr. Gold watched Paige pointedly look away from the plate glass window as she went past on the sidewalk. He smirked; wondering how long it would take for her to work up the nerve to tell him. He wondered idly if it would be girl or a boy.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Desperate Souls." I am making the assumption that this episode spans approximately one week, as it would take some time to arrange the debate and build the candidates' campaigns.

**I do not know what ABC's intentions are regarding wolves and the Red Riding Hood storyline.** For the purposes of my story only, the Wolfs of the Wolfswood are half-human and half-wolf, and have always been at war with both humankind and true wolves. They resent us for not accepting them, but the combination of wolf and human is unstable and causes them to be inclined to mindless and unpredictable violence, the kind of which neither wolf nor human would be capable unless severely unhinged. They are considered an abomination, and thus humans hunt them and true wolves will kill them if they can. These creatures are always referred to with a capital, and the plural of Wolf is always Wolfs. This is to help avoid confusion, as true wolves are rather touchy about the subject and would prefer that the creatures be called something less similar to their own species name. The Wolfs of my story are not in any way, shape, or form connected with Red Riding Hood. At least, not yet.

I was a fan of the old shows "Hercules: The Legendary Journey" and "Xena: Warrior Princess," in which they did bring up Golden Hinds a few times. In these shows, they looked like smaller versions of centaurs, but in my story, they are either does or women, nothing in between. As in Hercules/Xena, it is _possible_ to kill a Golden Hind, but they are otherwise immortal. When they take human form, if a mortal touches them, they resume their "natural" form. They have healing abilities, which can have some consequences if overused. **I am not in any way, shape, or form associated with either show or the studios that produced them. I do not own any rights to them or to any of their characters.** When creating my little sisterhood of Golden Hinds, I used a combination of what I saw on these two shows (which includes the fact that Golden Hinds have a "human" form) and the Greek myth (which states that there were five Golden Hinds, four of which drew Artemis' chariot – the fifth escaped and it was Hercules' third labor to retrieve it. In the myth, they had antlers, which is why mine have antlers in their deer forms.)

Hope you enjoyed! Please Review!


	9. S1 Ch9 - Fire Sword

First of all, a big thanks to everyone who is sticking with me on this, all the readers who have favorited my story or put it on their alerts list. And a huge thanks to those who have reviewed!

The Littlest Ragamuffin: I'm so glad you like my story! And to answer your question, here's a quote from Chapter One: "Suddenly, Rumpelstiltskin raised his head and cackled gleefully. "The curse!" he shouted, still lying atop the princess' bound form. . . A narrow, advancing finger of some indefinable darkness swept over them as he reached his peak, and when it touched them, they disappeared." The Curse caught up with them just as Rumpel finished taking payment from Eliza. As he mentioned earlier in the first chapter, his shadow is still languishing in the cell; as soon as he was finished with Eliza's deal, he would have had to go back to the cell - which is why he timed things that way, otherwise (according to my theory, at any rate) he would have been incarcerated in Storybrooke while time was stopped, only getting out of jail if he could manage it once time started, which would probably never have happened had he been in jail. After all, he is the one who "acquired" Henry for Regina, thus putting into motion the chain of events that led to Emma's arrival... So basically, Eliza has not had to pay any consequences for her deal... yet. Only Paige has dealt with them, but she _does_ remember the truth...

As usual, I do not own the show or any of ABC's characters, just those I've made up...

And it's a pretty long one, hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>A woman raced through the woods, muttering under her breath as she ducked the wet branches. The rain-slick ground made her slip and fall often, but the fear of being caught and killed kept her going. She had given up on flinging spells at the man chasing her; his armor held protections that she couldn't pierce without something big, but the only spells she could think of required a great deal of preparation. Preparation she didn't have time for.<p>

She muttered, picturing the spell book she would inherit from her mother, trying to remember anything that would be useful. Suddenly she remembered a page about making someone forget what they were doing. The wording was antiquated; this spell must have been handed down over several generations of hags. She went over the spell in her mind several times as she ran, to make sure she had the words correct. A part of the page had remarked that this was only a temporary thing at best, and very tricky to accomplish, but temporary was all she needed right now, and she had little choice but to take her chances with the difficult spell.

When she felt she was ready to try the spell, she started to look for a good place to stop, hoping she would have a moment to try to catch her breath. There; a large tree in which she could sense a hollow big enough for her to hide in, and better yet, it opened on the opposite side from which she, and therefore the witch-hunter, was approaching the tree.

Tucking herself into the space, which was barely large enough, she fought to control her breathing. She also focused on the words of the spell, closing her eyes to better picture the lettering on the page. Outside, she heard the witch hunter approaching. Her time was almost up.

He ran past the tree, slowing as he realized that her trail had stopped. She stepped out of the hollow tree before he could turn around and began to enunciate the difficult spell. He whirled and threw his drawn knife at her, but she was expecting this and managed to deflect it with a gust of air.

The words were in a language that was used only for dark magic, and the mere uttering of them was enough to make one's head hurt. She persevered, hoping that the gust of air she'd used had not thrown off her pronunciation. But when she finished the spell, things went very strange indeed. He did not look like a man who had forgotten. He looked like a man besotted.

* * *

><p>Emma frowned as she and Paige left the doctor's office. Paige had told the doctor she knew the exact date when she conceived, but when the doctor asked how she was sure, Paige had lied. It hadn't only happened once, so why did she think she knew the date? Because she truly believed that it had happened on the day she had given. Something wasn't quite right here.<p>

Before she could say anything to Paige about it, Henry came around the corner of the building. "Oh, good, you're finally done. I was waiting for_ever_."

"What are you doing here, kid," Emma asked.

"Waiting for you." Henry looked at Paige. "Hi, Paige!" When Paige half-waved, he turned back to Emma. "Is she with us?"

"What do you mean, 'with us?'" Emma asked.

"You know," Henry replied, "Operation Cobra."

"Oh, um, I don't know," Emma said.

**What's Operation Cobra,** Paige asked.

When Emma translated for Henry, he looked around and said, "Not here."

* * *

><p>Sitting around the kitchen table in the apartment she shared with Mary Margaret, who was out doing some grocery shopping, Emma had sat quietly while Henry explained his theory. Emma had made hot chocolate for all three of them.<p>

When Paige signed, Emma translated for Henry, "She says she's not sure she should say anything because of me," Emma said. Speaking to Paige instead of for her, she asked, "Why?"

**Because you don't believe him yet, **Paige signed.

When Emma told Henry what Paige had said, Henry turned a hopeful face to Paige. "Does that mean you believe my theory?"

Emma translated again. "She says she doesn't believe." As Henry's face started to fall, Emma continued, "She knows it's true." Emma's face was skeptical.

"Really?" Henry was so excited that he didn't yet recall that the last person who claimed to remember his fairy tale past had died.

"She's asking you to check your book and see if she's in it," Emma said.

"I don't carry it with me anymore, it's too dangerous," Henry said. "I keep it hidden so my mom won't find it."

"She wants to know why," Emma said when Paige made a sign.

"Oh, right, I didn't tell you that part yet," Henry exclaimed. "My mom? She's the Evil Queen who cast the spell."

Paige's mouth dropped open. **Really? **At first she couldn't believe it, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. As mayor, Regina essentially had all the power here in Storybrooke. **Wow.**

Emma translated for Henry, who said, "I'll check the book as soon as I can. Who are you? I mean, in the fairy tales?"

Translating, Emma said, "Her name was Eliza. She was the crown princess of a kingdom that many called the Blueberry Kingdom, and her six younger brothers were turned into swans. That's why she can't speak; it's part of the counter-spell. She has to remain silent for six years while she makes yarn from the fibers of nettle plants, and then weave that yarn into six shirts, one for each brother."

"You can make yarn from nettles?" Henry was surprised, but then again, this was the kind of thing that happened in some fairy tales.

"Apparently, you can. She says she's already started." Emma didn't bother to translate Paige's embarrassed admission that the little yarn she had already produced was lumpy and uneven. Instead, she asked Paige, "How did you learn how to spin?"

**Well, I did learn in my other life, but I've always hated anything like that. Spinning, weaving, knitting, embroidery. Sometimes I wonder if the counter-spell would have been different for someone else, requiring them to do things that they despised. But I did look up videos on the internet, and I found a few websites that were pretty helpful.**

"Where did you even get a wheel?" Emma asked, incredulous. But when she thought about it, she added, "Well, I bet Gold would have something like that."

**No, I didn't need to get one from him, **she signed, telling Emma the story of how her mother wanted to make their log-cabin-style house more feminine. **She found some beautiful candelabras, a couple of hand-made quilts that she hung on the walls, and this old upright spinning wheel. She had seen a larger wheel, but it was too big, so when she found the upright, she had to have it. **Paige looked sadly reminiscent as she recounted her mother's tale. **She never even cared if it worked or not, she just loved the look of it. Anyway, Ruby helped me find it in the storage unit all my parents' stuff is in – and of course, I didn't tell her the real reason I wanted it, just that it was my mom's. Then I took a bunch of pictures and e-mailed them to a guy in Boston, who told me that it was in pristine condition, and he also told me a little bit about how it works and how to maintain it so it would be less likely to break down or anything. And I just went from there.**

Henry tugged at Emma's sleeve, asking what Paige was saying. While Emma translated, Paige went to the sink to wash her mug. When she sat back down, Henry said, "I don't _remember_ any stories like yours, but there are a lot of them in there. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Mary Margaret walked in with a bag of groceries in one arm. Paige could see another bag sitting on the floor, where Mary Margaret had set it down to free one hand for the doorknob. Paige stood to go get it, but Emma got there first.

"Hey, Emma, Henry," Mary Margaret said. "Who's this?" She gave Paige a friendly smile.

"This is Paige," Henry announced. "She can't talk."

"Oh, Paige, you're the one Mike Cochran taught sign language to, right?" Mary Margaret remembered how excited Mike had been to finally get to teach someone.

Nodding, Paige signed to Emma for a translation. "She wants to know if you know why he never became a teacher. She's never asked him, she doesn't want to bring it up if it's too painful."

Sympathetic, Mary Margaret said, "Well, he had to repeat two different years during his time at school, and while the time in elementary school wasn't a big deal, having to repeat your senior year of high school really doesn't look that good."

"He didn't get into college?" Emma said, reading Paige's hands.

"Oh, he got in," Mary Margaret said, "but he couldn't get the scholarships he needed. His family didn't have much money, so he was hoping not to have to borrow too much for his education. But also, his mother started getting worse. She never really got over losing her husband, and about the time Mike started teaching you sign language, she started acting out. Mike once told me that it felt like she knew he was doing something that made him happy, and she was jealous. He felt terrible about it, but he just couldn't shake that thought." Mary Margaret looked sad. "It was a really hard decision; if his mom had been okay, I think he would have just gotten loans and prayed that he could get a good job to repay them."

"She says she never knew," said Emma. "She was always too afraid it would hurt him if she asked, and now she's glad she didn't."

"He was pretty broken up about it. But he had you," Mary Margaret told Paige encouragingly. "He was so happy to be able to teach something useful. He said you were a model student."

**I certainly had a lot of motivation,** Paige signed. When Emma translated, Mary Margaret looked confused, so Paige added, **I needed some way to be able to communicate. No one had thought of texting back then, and let's face it, this **_**is **_**faster than trying to type something into my phone.**

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Mary Margaret said once Emma had finished translating.

* * *

><p>Mike, as usual, had come over to Paige's for dinner. She was a much better cook than he was, and besides, he liked spending time with her.<p>

"That was amazing, Paige, as always," he complimented.

**Thank you,** she signed.

"Listen," Mike said as he started helping her clear the table, "I was thinking we could do something for the people who have helped us so much. Maybe invite them here for dinner. We can ask Doctor Horne, and Mr. Gold. And Doctor Hopper, too. They've all helped us out a lot recently."

**They certainly have,** Paige signed slowly. **I guess we could do something like that.**

Mike smiled, pleased. He liked to make sure that people knew how much their efforts were appreciated. "I can ask Noah to come, too, since part of the reason we're thanking people is for their assistance with my mom. I'm sure Fawn would be willing to help you cook, if you'd like."

**So how many people are we talking, here?**

"Well," mused Mike, "we should probably give everyone the option to bring someone with them. So you and me, Noah and Fawn; then three others, and if they each bring someone, that's six, so add the four of us, that's ten."

**Well, my table has two leaves I can put in it, but I only have eight chairs. If I could borrow one or two from you, if we need them, that should work out. It might be a bit of a tight squeeze, but I think we could manage it. **Paige pressed her lips together as she contemplated.

"And if you haven't found a chance to speak to him by then, after the two doctors leave, I could take Noah and Fawn to my place and you could talk to Mr. Gold," Mike said meaningfully. When Paige made a face, he knew she still intended to drag her heels on this. "Paige, we talked about this."

**I know,** she signed, pouting a bit. **I just…I don't know how to say it. And I'm embarrassed. And for all I know, it's just going to make things really awkward. **She couldn't tell Mike the truth. Mr. Gold remembered his past. That meant that he knew that she had gotten pregnant that night when the clock started again. She was fairly certain that he would be gloating about it, possibly even making bets with himself on when she would tell him. He still didn't know that she, too, remembered.

"Just tell him you're pregnant. I'm pretty sure that's self-explanatory." Mike paused for a moment, then added, "I'm pretty sure he won't have forgotten that you two – er, what you did that night."

Paige blushed. If Mike kept bringing up the one-time-only lie, she was terrified that she would say something that would give her away. After how upset and disgusted he had been over that little admission, she didn't think he could handle the truth. But, she realized suddenly, he would never know the real truth. Even if he found out that her situation with Gold was an ongoing ordeal, she would still have to lie about it. She could never tell him how she really felt about the whole situation. So to hide her thoughts, she changed the subject. **I think this dinner thing is a really good idea. **Seeing Mike's expectant expression, she reluctantly added, **And if I haven't made time to talk to Mr. Gold before then, I'll talk to him after everyone else leaves, okay? I promise.**

"Thank you, Paige," Mike said. He knew that if he were in Gold's shoes, he would want to know, even if he wasn't to have an active part in raising the child. It was the principle of the thing, really. Mike believed that a man should know if he had a child somewhere. He also believed that a man should offer support, at least financially, but he was realistic enough to realize that not everyone thought that way.

* * *

><p>"Please, just tell me your name," the witch-hunter cried. He was still chasing her through the forest, but for a very different reason now.<p>

"Leave me alone," the hag cried. "You tried to kill me!"

"But that was before! I could never harm you now. I love you!"

She stopped. Sensing that she was prepared to dart away at the slightest provocation, the witch-hunter stopped as well, drinking in the sight of her face. It was a plain face, with a strong nose that threatened to overwhelm the rest of her face. She said, "No. I misspoke, and now you _think_ you love me. But it's a lie. Do you know what we call your kind? We call you False Reapers. Because you take death into your own hands, where it does not belong. Get out of my sight before I kill you!" Her threat was an empty one; she was barely thirty, and had never killed anyone before. There were a few that may have died as a result of her magic, but she hadn't had the stomach to find out for sure.

"I would welcome death if it came from your hand," he said, his face an odd mixture of grave and joyous. "But a man condemned is usually given one final request, and mine is simple. Your name, my beautiful lady."

She swallowed. No one had ever called her beautiful before. She had never been interested in marrying and having a family, although as an only child, her mother had been pressing for it. At this rate, there would be no one to leave the family spells to. But she had always wondered what it was like to be desired by a man. To lie with him. And this witch-hunter was a handsome example of manhood. Against her better judgment, she said, "Miranda."

"Miranda," he repeated, his face lighting up. "Such a beautiful name, yet it hardly seems worthy of you." He sighed happily. "Very well, then, Miranda." His voice seemed to caress the name. "If you have ordained that I must die, then die I shall. I know I have no right to request it, as you have already been kind enough to grant me your name, but if I could kneel at your feet as I die, I would count it the greatest honor."

"How are you called, False Reaper?" Miranda hoped the waver in her voice did not carry to him, or that he would not take it as the weakness that it was.

He gave out a soft, incredulous laugh. His goddess wanted to know his name! He could not regret dying now, knowing that he was worthy enough for her to ask his name. "Among the Brotherhood, I am known as Fire Sword, but my true name is Brock." The Brotherhood of the Hunt was what witch-hunters called themselves. They weren't a cohesive unit in any sense, but they always knew that if they needed a hand with a particularly nasty coven of dark witches and warlocks, they could turn to their Brothers. But the one thing that they could never do was to give their true names to another witch-hunter. It was not a rule, but a tradition. When a man wished to become a Hunter, he found a mentor who was acknowledged by the Brotherhood, but his master never knew his name. His master called him "boy" or any other derogatory name that came to mind, and upon completing his training and becoming a Brother himself, a man received his Hunting Name.

"Brock," Miranda repeated. Even though it was almost too soft to be heard, Brock exulted silently as her lips moved. She had spoken his name, his _true_ name! He could truly die a happy man now.

After a long pause, Miranda hesitantly began to approach the man she had been running from a short time ago. "I will let you live, Brock. But you must leave these woods and never come near me again."

"I – I cannot! I will die a slow and painful death without you! Be merciful, O Miranda, I beg of you!" He dropped to his knees in his desperate plea. "I would rather die swiftly at your own exalted hand than suffer a long, slow death without you!"

Tears formed in Miranda's eyes as she cried, "I cannot! I have not the stomach to take a life." A hard knot formed in her chest as she made this admission. "So what would you have me do?"

"Let me stay near you. I can build you a house in the woods here, where no one will ever find us. I will give you everything you need, everything you could ever want." Brock's eyes shone with tears of devotion. "All I ask is that you remain near me. Hope will by my constant companion as I adore you every moment. I will yearn, in silence if you wish it, for your touch, your kindness."

Miranda was torn. He would not leave her, she could see that now. He would follow her if she tried to send him away, and she couldn't let him discover her home. He may be obsessed with her, but she did not dare take the risk that his supposed love for her would stay his hand when he discovered her dying mother in the house. She feared her mother, even hated her at times, but no hag could ever wish a False Reaper upon even the greatest of enemies.

But if she couldn't let him follow her, neither could she kill him. She knew it was a weakness; her mother was extremely fond of pointing that out to her. Perhaps someday she could make herself hard enough to take a life, but could she wait that long, never going home until she could make herself kill this man? But what other choice did she have? _By the Dark One_, she thought to herself, _what can I do?_

"Please, lovely Miranda, let me never leave your side." Brock reached one hand out beseechingly. "I beg of you, do not leave me in anguish!"

Without a word, she turned on her heel and stalked through the woods, hearing him crash through the underbrush as he tried to keep her in sight. She followed her instincts to a small clearing by a stream that she could tell would run strongly through all weathers, except perhaps a drought.

When Brock caught up with her, she pointed to a spot near the bank. "There. Build me a cabin. I must go and acquire some provisions."

"When will you return," Brock asked, licking his lips nervously. To be away from her even for ten minutes would be agony.

Pointing to the western horizon, she said, "I will return when the sun seems to touch the land yonder. If you are not here, you will never see me again." Her voice was hard to cover her terror. She hoped to keep him from following her home. "And if you have not made sufficient progress, I will cast a spell on you that will make it impossible for you to ever find me again. Do you understand, False Reaper?"

Despite being terrified that some harm would come to her without him along for protection, Brock did not dare defy the object of his affection. "Yes, Mistress," he replied. She had not used his name, so he feared that if he used hers, she would become angry with him. Perhaps she already was; he had called her by name without permission when she spoke to him before.

Miranda stalked imperiously out of the clearing, but not in the direction of her home. She walked a long ways, then circled back around to nearly the opposite side of the clearing. Unconsciously fiddling with the small vial that hung around her neck, she peered through the trees. In the time she'd been gone, Brock had found a large log that he had hewn into a rough semblance of a shovel and had begun digging the foundations. Apparently he meant to build an actual floor for her. That would be novel experience. True, he kept pausing in his work to check the progress of the sun, and to stare longingly in the direction she had gone, but he was working with a will.

Knowing that she could return home in relative safety, Miranda hurried. She would just have time to make it there and back and still be able to spend one last afternoon with her mother. She wasn't sure if that thought made her happy or sad.

* * *

><p>Henry and Emma had met up at Granny's for breakfast. Having retrieved his book from its hiding place, Henry had asked Emma to text Paige and ask her to join them, which Paige had been only too happy to do.<p>

"That's weird," said Henry, flipping through the pages of his storybook almost frantically. "There's nothing in here about you. Or your brothers." He was confused; here was someone who not only believed in his theory, but who actually remembered everything from her fairy-tale life, and she wasn't even in the book!

"It's not that weird when you think about it," Emma translated. Paige had suggested that she try translating literally, like Mike did for therapy sessions. Emma agreed to try it, admitting that it was a bit awkward to constantly feel the need to say 'she says,' or something similar with everything she translated.

Paige felt a little sad; she had been hoping that she could glean some kind of understanding about her situation from Henry's book, but it was clearly not meant to be.

"My story isn't over," Emma continued, reading Paige's hands. "Until my story has an ending, I guess it can't be included in the book."

Emma spoke to Paige, now. "So, what happens if you get all the shirts made? You get your happily ever after and your story appears in the book?"

**I don't see how it could. Remember, this place has no happy endings, and besides, in this world my brothers were all miscarried. I mean, maybe there's some lake around here where my brothers are swimming around as swans, not knowing who they once were, but I doubt it. Swans have to migrate to someplace where the water doesn't freeze for the winter. With the curse, they wouldn't be able to leave, and they'd probably die. So I don't know if my story could ever appear in Henry's book, but I certainly hope I don't have to find out what happens if we're all still here in six years' time.**

Emma translated the gist of Paige's explanation to Henry, who thought of another question.

"So, do you know who anyone else here is? There are a lot of people I haven't figured out yet."

Emma translated for Paige again, "There are really only a few people that I recognize. My kingdom was rather small and somewhat isolated from the bigger kingdoms, where Snow White and Cinderella were from. You've also got to remember that, for most of these stories, there are dozens of people, maybe more, that don't get into the story, but they live and work in the town, or the castle, or wherever."

"Did you ever meet Rumpelstiltskin?" Henry asked, getting excited. Rumpelstiltskin seemed to be a key factor in many of the stories.

Paige hesitated a moment, then nodded her head yes. Emma translated as Paige signed, **I mean, he is the one I had to make a deal with to find out how to save my brothers.**

"Who is he in Storybrooke?" asked Henry, practically bouncing out of his chair. If she knew someone in the fairy tale world, he had no doubt that she could easily recognize that person here.

Paige's hands came up, and Emma translated again. "I can't tell you that, Henry. This is your story, yours and Emma's, and I'm still in the middle of mine. We all have to live out our own stories, and make our own discoveries. I think that's part of the reason I'm not in your book. I can't learn anything about my own situation without earning it myself. You'll figure out who Rumpelstiltskin is eventually, at the right time for your story. If you found out now, it might ruin your chance at being happy ever after."

Henry was disappointed, and a part of him almost wanted to cry. But another part of him realized that Paige was right. He and Emma had to do this themselves, not find the answers by cheating.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, Paige decided to take care of some laundry that needed washing. After she started a load in the machine, she started hand-washing some things that, according to their labels, should not be put in a washing machine. She had just about finished with them when her doorbell rang.<p>

Drying her hands, Paige headed through the living room to answer the door. She wondered who it could be; she seldom had visitors. She was surprised to see Emma standing on the porch.

**Emma, hi, **she signed after draping the hand towel over her shoulder. **Please, come in!**

Emma, noticing that Paige's hands were red, asked, "You're not using bleach or anything to clean with, are you?"

**Oh, no, I was just hand-washing some clothes, in cold water.** Paige looked down at her hands. _**Very **_**cold water. **Then Paige asked, **Can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?**

"Uh, no thanks," Emma said. "I won't be long. I just needed to talk to you about something."

**What is it? **Paige signed, wondering what Emma could need to say that she hadn't said at breakfast this morning.

"Listen, I would appreciate it if you'd stop encouraging Henry. This whole fairy tale thing is just…way out there, and I'm not sure it's healthy for him." Emma tried to think of a nice way to say it. "I don't know why you think you're some character out of some story, but it just doesn't make sense." She gestured to indicate Paige's living room, saying, "This is the world we live in. Not some enchanted forest. Happily ever after just doesn't exist."

**I see. You think Henry and I are crazy, don't you?** When Emma tried to claim that that wasn't what she had said, Paige shook her head. **No, I get it. You never really knew the world that was. You were there for, what, maybe an hour? But me, Emma, I spent twenty-four years there. I grew up there. I haven't told anyone else in this town that I remember. Because I seem to be the only one who does, except probably the mayor, since she's the one who enacted the Curse. Now Henry, he's never been there at all, but if you're the savior, and he's your son, that could be the reason why he is so willing to believe in something so 'crazy.' He's the catalyst that brought you here, Emma. Without him, we would have no hope.**

**And I guess I can understand how you'd think that I'm crazy. My mom committed suicide on my sixteenth birthday, and almost a year later, my dad threw me out in the street and I got gang-raped. **Paige was crying as she recounted the horrors she remembered in this terrible world. **And for some reason that doctors can't explain, I haven't been able to speak since then. I've been through a lot of really bad times, and that could make anyone crazy, right?**

Emma opened her mouth, her face sympathetic, but found that she didn't know what to say. She had no idea that Paige had been through all that. She hadn't meant to bring up such pain, she just didn't want Paige to encourage Henry.

**So, what, you think I made up a fairy tale to make my life seem better? That I invented some better place, some better life, to hide in? Because let me tell you, bad things happen everywhere. But there, in the world that was? Everyone at least has a **_**chance**_** at happily ever after. But not here. Here, no one gets that. **Paige was beyond the point of caring what Emma thought of her now. She didn't even care if Emma believed. She was angry now, and she just wanted to make it very clear that being a character in a fairy tale was hardly a walk in the park.

**In my other life, I was the one who let my mother die. The doctor told us we had to choose, my mother or the baby. He couldn't save both. Father wanted to save Mother's life, but I knew that it would eat her alive that her baby could have lived, so I convinced him to choose my brother instead. Even in my 'happy' little fairy tale, it was still **_**my fault**_** that my mother died. **_**I**_** made that choice, Emma. And then my brothers got turned into swans, and I watched my father fall apart, watched him let our kingdom fall apart, searching for a way to save them. And the worse part of it is, I didn't step in and rule in his stead. I searched with him, even though I knew that someone needed to take care of things. And when it came down to it, I sold something very, very precious to me in order to discover a way to save them. I made a repulsive deal, and I have no guarantee that I'll be able to do what I have to do. But if I can save my brothers, it will be worth it, even though I might lose my one true love over it. **Paige had thought about it a lot. Andrew may not wish to marry an impure woman, especially since that woman was carrying a child that was not his own. Unless the child she now carried turned out to be unsuitable for ruling, it would not be Andrew's child who inherited the throne. What man would want to face that?

Emma had turned again to disbelief. "Look, I'm really sorry about everything that's happened to you. But this whole fairy tale thing is ridiculous!"

**No, what's ridiculous is that you refuse to even consider the possibility. You seem to think that this fairy tale world is some perfect place where nobody gets hurt, but it's not. Not everyone gets their happy ending. Life can still suck when you're living a fairy tale. Life sucks everywhere, but in this world, that's all there is. You might have something good happen, but then a minute later, life gets in the way again. People who should end up together don't, and people like me go through so much crap and almost never have those rare happy moments.**

"Come on, I know everyone has their problems, but you've got Mike. He cares about you, right Paige?" Emma asked that to try to get Paige to realize that her life wasn't all bad. She had had sensed truth in Paige as the girl had said it, but that only meant that Paige _believed_that her life wasn't very happy. And after everything the girl had been through, it wasn't hard to understand why she felt that way.

**Not the way I want him to. **Paige realized, too late, that her anger and frustration had gotten the better of her again. Emma was pretty sharp; as much as Paige hoped she wouldn't make the obvious connection, the new sheriff wasn't likely to miss it.

With a questioning look on her face, Emma asked, "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

**Nothing,** Paige signed. **I don't want to talk about it.**

"No, that isn't 'nothing,' that's definitely something," Emma said slowly, a thought coming to her. "Is Mike the father of your baby?"

Paige looked at Emma like a deer in the headlights. **Of course,** she signed. **Why would you think he isn't?**

"I _didn't_ think he wasn't, not until just now," Emma replied. "You see, Paige, I can always tell if someone is lying. And you were. You lied when you said Mike was the father." Emma knew that this meant something horribly significant, but she couldn't quite grasp it. "So if it's not Mike, who can –" Emma cut off as she realized suddenly. Her whole face registered shock, tinged with disgust. "Oh, God," she said, "It's Gold, isn't it? He's the father?"

* * *

><p>Miranda had come to the conclusion that she would not be able to kill Brock in cold blood. If he were trying to kill her, it would be a different matter, but as obsessed as he was, that wasn't going to happen. Until she could figure out what went wrong with the original spell, it would be nearly impossible to find a way to undo it. Besides which, any spell dealing with a person's emotions was notoriously difficult to lift in the best of circumstances.<p>

She had spent the first few months giving him boils and sores, warts with long hairs growing out of them, rashes, anything she could think of to amuse herself. But as soon as he realized that she was the cause, he bore these tricks without complaint. In fact, he had occasionally thanked her for testing his devotion!

He tried continually to convince her to lie with him. She often awoke to find him watching her sleep. He always kept his hands clenched at his sides when he was aroused. She had once asked him why she always had to tell him to go and take care of his erections on his own. In retrospect, she wished she hadn't. His reply had been that he feared his mistress' wrath if it should turn out that she had wanted to use it for her own pleasure.

It was true, though, that she had considered doing just that more than once. But she could never bring herself to actually do it. Propriety had nothing to do with it; she was more concerned that if she gave in just once, he would only be more insistent in trying to convince her to do it again. A part of her wondered if it would be so bad to take full advantage of his situation, but she kept pushing that thought down.

After nearly a year of living in the middle of nowhere with Brock, Miranda was no closer to a solution. But the arrival of a gore crow stopped her research in its tracks. Her mother was dead, and the family spells belonged to her. To keep Brock busy while she returned home to take care of the necessaries, she had him begin making her a root cellar. As it was, she made him go down into the crawlspace under the floor to store the vegetables they dried for winter. A root cellar would work better, and it would keep him from trying to follow her.

When Miranda returned, she was amazed by the progress Brock had made. She'd only been gone overnight; it hadn't taken long. But when he proudly showed her how much he had accomplished, she sneered, saying, "I _guess_ that will do. Really, I expected more from a strapping young False Reaper like you." Then she turned and went into the cabin. She peered out a window. He was staring at the door, looking like a lost little boy. She snickered to herself. What a fool he was. After a long moment, he turned back to his task.

Even having the family spell book at the cabin didn't help. She had copied the spell down when she went home while Brock started to build the cabin for her; the original was no different, but she had somehow let herself think that having the original page itself would make some difference in her ability to figure out what exactly she had mispronounced.

Frustrated, she threw her notes onto the floor and screamed, stomping on the papers for good measure. As she started into a full-blown tantrum, she was suddenly stopped by two strong arms wrapping around her. A very noticeably male body pressed up against hers, and she could feel that he was quite happy about it. "Let me go, Brock!" she screamed. She tried to struggle, but his arms were pinning her elbows to her sides; there wasn't much she could do.

"Please, Mistress, I beg you! I cannot stand by and watch you harm yourself," Brock cried. He held her, his face buried in her hair. He was crying in his distress, and for some reason, that made Miranda pause.

"I should be allowed to have a tantrum if I wish," she said coldly.

"I will not watch you come to harm, not when I can stop it from happening," Brock replied. "If I have to, I will hold you until your tantrum passes. I know you will punish me, Mistress, but if I can save you from harm, it will be worth it."

Even though she knew that it was born of magically-altered emotions, Miranda found herself touched by his concern. She was still reeling over the recent loss of her mother, although her mother would have simply watched the tantrum with a sneer on her face, waiting until Miranda finally wound down. Once that happened, she would laugh at Miranda, telling her that if she didn't want bruises and scrapes, perhaps she should control her temper. Never once had her mother tried to stop a tantrum.

Without thought, Miranda's half-pinned arms went around Brock's waist, as she started to cry into his rough shirt. She sobbed, finally releasing the agonies of her childhood and her confusion over her mother's death. She also cried because she hated being a failure. Brock held her tightly, raising one hand to stroke her hair, but tentatively, as though he were afraid of being killed on the spot for his boldness.

As Miranda's tears began to slow, she felt again the hardness pressed against her lower abdomen. Her body trembled, her control crumbling. She stretched up on tip-toe to brush her lips against Brock's. He went still, like a wild animal sensing the hunter. She kissed him again, more firmly this time, but he still stood unmoving, except for his labored breathing.

"Kiss me, Brock," Miranda whispered, putting her lips to his again. He did, roughly. He pushed at her lips too eagerly, so Miranda freed one hand and put it to his face, guiding him so that their kiss was a bit gentler. His lips were warm and a little bit rough from the amount of time he spent outside in all weathers, but Miranda didn't mind.

Breaking the kiss, Miranda untied the lacing at the neck of Brock's shirt and pulled it over his head. She had seen his bare chest often while he labored for her, but never up close like this. She ran her hands over the muscles in his stomach, sliding her hands up to brush his nipples. She looked into his eyes and saw his hunger, but it was touched with uncertainty. He was afraid this was some kind of trick, some test of his devotion. Miranda took him by the hand and led him into her bedroom, undoing her own bodice with the other hand as she went.

The vial she wore around her neck was the only thing that gave her pause. Gaudior had been her only friend for most of her life, and she knew that giving in to this temptation would separate them forever. Unicorns did not associate with impure women. She was sad that she wouldn't get to see him one last time, especially since she hadn't been able to get away from Brock very often during the past year. She had often felt the unicorn's presence, or glimpsed him among the trees, but he would not come too near a man. But her desire outweighed the inevitable loss of her friend. As she drew Brock down onto the bed, the only thing she still wore was the charm around her neck.

* * *

><p>"Tell me the truth, Paige," Emma demanded, "is it Gold's baby?"<p>

**It's **_**my**_** baby,** Paige signed. Knowing now the Emma could detect a lie, she was determined avoid lying if she could. **It doesn't matter who the biological father is. Mike is going to be this child's father.**

"But is Gold the biological father?" Emma wasn't even sure herself why she was so intent on knowing.

**Do you know what makes a parent, Emma? A true parent? **When the sheriff didn't respond, Paige continued. **Biology doesn't count for much. What's really important is being there for the child. Mike promised to be there for my baby, so Mike is the father, regardless of who got me pregnant. You should understand that. For ten years, you weren't Henry's mother. Regina was. But then when he found you, you uprooted your entire life for his sake. You came here, you **_**stayed**_** here, for **_**him**_**. That's when you became a mother. Before that, you were just a woman who gave birth. Now Henry has two mothers, although I'm not so sure Regina is truly capable of loving him after what I learned this morning.**

"I'm just trying to help you, Paige," Emma said, not wanting to deal with the things Paige had just said to her. "If Gold molested you, I can help." What other reason could a young woman have for letting that creepy old man touch her? "I'll put together a case against him, we'll find a judge who's not afraid of him. We can figure this out."

**No. **Paige stared defiantly at Emma.

"Does he have some kind of hold on you? I'll do anything I can to help you," Emma said, putting a hand on Paige's arm.

**You don't understand. You have no case against him. If he were brought up on charges of molesting me, I would be called as witness in his defense, not for the prosecution. You have no idea what's going on here.**

"Tell me that that vile man has never put his hands on you. If you can say that and mean it, I'll owe you a huge apology." Emma didn't think she was wrong, but it was a possibility.

**I can't do that,** Paige signed. **He has put his hands on me. And not just his hands, either.**

"Ugh," Emma said. "Let me help you, Paige," she pleaded, trying to take Paige's hand.

But Paige pulled away, signing, **I don't need help. If you put me on the stand, one of two things will happen. Either I'll lie, or the cross-examination by Gold's lawyer, who is the best lawyer in town, by the way, will reveal certain things that will make it very clear that I am not being taken advantage of.**

Emma was frustrated; Paige didn't fully believe that she wasn't being molested, but she also wasn't quite lying. "I don't believe you."

**Try your lie-detector on this one, Emma,** Paige signed. **I have willingly gotten down on my knees and given Mr. Gold a blowjob. **After a brief pause while Emma's face made interesting contortions, Paige signed, **Did I lie?**

"Um…no," Emma said, fighting the mental image. "Gross!"

**Here's another one for you. He makes absolutely certain that I get my pleasure every single time. **The look on Emma's face was enough; Paige didn't need to ask this time. **He's very good at making me feel amazing.**

"Eww, please just stop. I don't want to hear this." Emma had backed away from Paige a little bit. "But let me tell you something. Even though you seem to be telling the truth, there's still something you're hiding. What you're saying is mostly true, but not entirely. What's really going on here?"

Paige had started blushing a bit, and it darkened now. **What's really going on is that I was raised better than to have sex with a man I'm not even dating, let alone married to. I was raised to be a good, wholesome girl, but here I am enjoying the attentions of a man old enough to be my father, and who is decidedly **_**not**_** my boyfriend. We don't even have romantic feelings for each other, it's just sex, and I am very ashamed of myself. If my mother could see me now, she'd drag me to church by my hair. And yet, I can't seem to keep myself away from him.** Paige felt like she should be wiping sweat off her brow; those statements were all true, but it had been so hard to make sure she didn't tell a lie. But just in case Emma was still getting a not-quite-true vibe, Paige added, **I guess your lie-detecting ability has a hard time with shame and embarrassment.**

"Damn," Emma said. "I don't even know what to say." She looked around, trying not to look at Paige.

This time it was Paige reaching out to Emma. When she'd gotten Emma's attention, Paige signed, **Please, promise me you won't tell anyone? It's just that – everyone else hates him, and I only just started making friends for the first time in my life. I don't want people to know that I – you know. With him. I don't want to lose my chance to have friends.**

Against her better judgment, Emma said, "Alright. I promise I won't tell anyone."

**And…I understand if you're too freaked out to be around me for a while, but I hope you can eventually get past it. I guess I could get Mike to go to the doctor with me. **Paige was afraid that she had just lost the only woman she could effectively communicate with. She prayed Emma wouldn't let anything slip to Ruby; she couldn't stand losing them both.

"I – I don't know. Let me know when your next appointment is, and I'll let you know if I'm ready, okay?" Emma could see that Paige was fighting tears. In spite of her own disgust at what the girl was doing, Emma did believe that if someone wanted to do something, she should just do it. Unless, of course, she knew it was wrong. And really, as revolting as it seemed to Emma, she couldn't see how the things Paige and Gold were doing would actually be wrong. They might go against the way the girl was raised, but that didn't make them inherently bad.

Suddenly, Emma's phone rang. Both women jumped at the sound. After a brief conversation, Emma tried not to let her relief show as she said, "I've got to go, we've had a report of some kids caught shoplifting. I…should take care of that." Without actually saying goodbye, Emma left. She really hoped that she didn't end up with any unpleasant mental images after what she'd heard this afternoon.

* * *

><p>Marsha Sanford dropped her keys into the little basket on her counter. She sighed, wondering what she should do. Dr. Horne had informed her that he had been invited to dinner by the families of two of their patients. He could bring a guest if he wished, and he had invited Marsha. As the primary caregiver for Jude Cygnus, he said that he thought it would be nice for her to spend some time with Jude's daughter.<p>

It was true that Jude was one of the facility's most troubled patients, and she had never had the opportunity to meet the daughter, who couldn't visit due to her father's condition. However, Marsha worried that Dr. Horne might read too much into it if she agreed to accompany him.

Marsha had no romantic interest in her boss. In fact, she really didn't have a romantic interest in anyone. Besides, she worked all the time; there really wasn't room in her life for a relationship right now.

She groaned slightly as she kicked off her shoes. One of the drawbacks to being a nurse was sore feet, but Marsha enjoyed her job. She felt like she was making a difference. But for some reason, there was still something missing, or maybe just something that wasn't quite right.

Hitting the button on her answering machine, she balanced on one foot to massage the other. The first message was some automated junk call about lowering credit card debt, which made her snort in slight amusement. Marsha only had one credit card, and she only used it for emergencies or necessities, like the new refrigerator she'd needed a few months ago. Which she had already paid off. She didn't exactly have much in the way of debt.

The next message was a few seconds of dead air before the machine had kicked off. It was probably a telemarketer. Marsha switched feet.

The third message was from Marsha's mother, which made her groan. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"Marsha," came the voice on the machine, "it's your mother. I know you're at work right now, but listen, why don't you come over for dinner on Saturday? I'll make meatloaf."

"Why," Marsha muttered to herself. "You know I hate meatloaf."

"And listen," the machine continued, "I promise I won't nag you about your job. I know it gets on your nerves, but I only do it because I care."

"Yeah, right!" Marsha made a face.

"It's a terrible job; I don't know why you haven't quit yet. You're never home, and when you do get a chance to visit with me, you're always so tired, and your feet hurt, and all you do is either whine at me or bite my head off, and I don't appreciate it!"

Marsha rolled her eyes. But she knew that she would feel obligated to go. She always did.

"Anyway, Marsha, Saturday night, meatloaf. If that doesn't work for you, just give me a call, but it's not like you have anything better to do on a weekend, right? Well, I'll talk to you later. Bye, hon!"

As the machine beeped, Marsha realized – Saturday was the day of that dinner Dr. Horne was going to! So, determined to avoid her mother this time around, Marsha called Horne to ask if the invitation was still open.

* * *

><p>Miranda found herself fleeing Brock again. This time, though, it was not for own life, but for that of her unborn child. She had brought her spell book with her, and a few meager belongings. She still wore the vial that she no longer had a right to.<p>

She knew of a swamp where she could hide. In searching her family's spells for some way to stop Brock's obsession, she had found a document detailing not only the swamp itself, but telling the secret of how to leave, for it was an enchanted swamp. It had been created by one of Miranda's forebears as a place to hide if it was needed. For within the swamp, all of that hag's descendants could easily hide. The swamp itself would aid them.

She was perhaps a week or so from delivering her child. The summer solstice was just a few days away; she should easily make it to the swamp before then. Her ancestress had placed a rough cabin in the swamp. Miranda didn't know if the hag had intended to improve the shack eventually, or perhaps only meant to do so if she ended up having to hide there. But that mattered not; Miranda had to focus on getting there first.

On the eve of the solstice, Miranda had finally reached the shack. She did not feel well, but even had she not been heavy with child, such swift travel would still have taken its toll on her. Of course, were she not pregnant, she never would have had to start running from Brock again.

With his witch-hunter instincts, he had sensed that the babe Miranda carried could become a witch. Not a hag, unfortunately, but as Miranda had lain with a man who had no magical powers or abilities whatsoever, it was a miracle that her child would be able to use magic at all. The girl was luckier than she would ever know. For Miranda was certain that it would be girl.

There was a well of cold water on this little island. It was clean water, but that was about all that could be said of it. But water was water, so Miranda drank some and splashed more on her dusty face. After unpacking the few things she had brought and finding places to put them, she laid out some blankets in front of the fire. There was a bed in the loft, but she felt ill, so it would be best if she slept downstairs. She didn't want to risk a fall, not in her condition.

Miranda fell asleep with a hand on her enlarged stomach, wondering if Brock could find her here. Perhaps Rumpelstiltskin could help her…

* * *

><p>Very early the next morning, Miranda woke to excruciating pains in her stomach. It seemed that she was not a week or so away from giving birth; it was going to happen in just a few hours. She cried out as a contraction gripped her. She was exceptionally glad she had chosen to sleep downstairs. Between pains, she got the fire going again and began to heat some water. She had only brought a few lengths of toweling, but it would have to be enough.<p>

As the contractions began to come closer together, Miranda wondered if her hasty traveling had caused this. But that didn't matter, really. She was just grateful that she had managed to reach the cabin before this happened.

About an hour after sunrise, the small fire was finally flickering out. Miranda held the tiny little baby in her arms. The hag's face was slick with sweat, and her hair was plastered to her head, but all she cared about was the child she held. The cord was cut, and the afterbirth delivered. Her daughter had stopped crying, and now her mouth started to move in a sucking motion. Pulling at the neck of her nightshift, Miranda put the child to her breast. The little girl suckled strongly. Her eyes opened for the first time, and although she probably couldn't see that far, it looked like she stared into Miranda's face. "Lilura," she whispered, giving her daughter a name that meant 'enchantment.' "Welcome to the Swamp of No Return, my solstice child."

* * *

><p>Paige felt that the evening had gone very well. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Especially Marsha, the nurse Dr. Horne had brought as his guest. It was nice to meet someone who actually got to spend time with her father. The woman seemed really happy to be here, and Paige had thought at first that Marsha might be hoping for more than a professional relationship with Dr. Horne, but she didn't act like a woman with a crush. Perhaps she just didn't get invited out much and was pleased to have something to do on a Saturday night.<p>

As Mike had said, Fawn had been more than willing to help with the cooking. They'd made chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and a side dish Paige's mother had always called squash casserole. Since Fawn and Dr. Horne were both vegetarians, Fawn had brought a few of her own meatless steaks for the two of them. Dinner, everyone agreed, had been delicious, and Paige had made a blueberry cobbler for dessert, which she served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The cobbler had also gotten rave reviews.

It was a little after nine, and the guests were starting to talk about heading home. Some of them had to work tomorrow, even though it was Sunday. Dr. Hopper was the first to leave. He had brought his best friend Marco, as Paige had hoped he would. She should have thought of inviting Marco herself, because she had heard that he had been instrumental in organizing the people who went to the council meeting to help her. She thanked them both again before they left, with Mike acting as her translator.

Dr. Horne and Marsha left shortly after, and Paige could see Mike talking to Noah and Fawn. She assumed that he was inviting them over to his side of the house. She had butterflies in her stomach. Monstrous killer butterflies, as far as she could tell.

Gold came out of the kitchen, having just washed his glass. "Well, Paige, thank you for inviting me, but I should probably be going now," he said. Gold had no one to bring, so there had been nine for dinner, not ten.

**Actually, **Paige signed, feeling Mike's eyes on her, **I was hoping you could stay a little longer? I…I need to discuss something with you.**

"Of course, Paige," Mr. Gold said, a slight smile on his face.

"Hey, Paige, we're going to head over to my place," Mike said. Giving Paige a hug, he said, "I might stop back in a little later, in case you need help with any clean-up. See you later!"

**Bye,** Paige signed, not wanting him to go. But then again, she also didn't want him here for the conversation she was about to have with Mr. Gold.

"Now, what did you need to discuss, Paige?" Gold kept his expression politely interested. Truthfully, he had expected her to wait a bit longer before telling him, but he had seen the significant glance young Michael had given her. Gold suspected that it was at Michael's urging that she had asked him to stay.

Paige sat down on the couch. Following her, Gold sat on the loveseat so he could watch her face. After a long pause, she finally signed, **I don't know how else to tell you, so I'm just going to say it. I'm…I'm pregnant.**

"Well, congratulations, Paige. How far along are you?" He wanted to see how she would react if he pretended to think the baby was Michael's.

**The doctor says I'm at about eight weeks. **It was actually seven weeks, but even knowing the exact date of conception, the doctor had insisted on counting from her last period, which added about a week to the calculations.

"Don't most couples wait a bit longer before letting people know they're expecting?" Gold was enjoying this. "And besides, why isn't young Michael here with you? He should support the mother of his child, don't you think?"

Paige swallowed hard. **Mike…isn't the father.**

When Paige didn't elaborate further, Gold asked, "Are you sure?" His mouth twitched as he tried not to smirk.

**Yes. I'm very sure. **Her nervousness was the only thing that kept Paige from getting angry. She knew very well that Gold knew exactly what was going on here. Paige hoped that his decision to play dumb meant that he did not realize that she remembered their true past.

"So what exactly are you saying, here, Paige?" Gold couldn't stop the smirk any longer. Paige's expression was priceless.

**It's…it's you. You're the father. **Paige's face was red. The butterflies hadn't gone away; in fact, they were even more frenzied than before. Paige still had to break the news that she didn't want anyone to know the truth.

* * *

><p>Miranda jumped awake, which also woke little Lilura. The infant, only a few hours old, wailed at the interruption of her sleep. Miranda held Lilura closer, trying to soothe the child. Someone was moving around outside, and even though it was too late, Miranda irrationally half-hoped she could quiet the baby before its cries were noticed.<p>

The door opened slowly, creaking. No one was in sight. Miranda stared anxiously out into the bright summer sunlight. Suddenly, a voice came from the cabin's loft.

"What is _that_?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, with undertones of something akin to disgust in his voice.

"Rumpelstiltskin? It's you!" Miranda's relief was palpable.

"Indeed." He was sitting on the edge of the loft, which had no rail, his crossed legs dangling down into the main room. "I believe you were hoping I'd drop by?"

"Yes, I need your help." Shifting the baby to her other arm, Miranda reached for her spell book. She saw the greedy look in the impish little man's eyes, so after she pulled out a sheet of loose parchment that had been folded under the cover, she tucked the precious book under her back. "I was trying to do this spell, and something went wrong. I was being chased by a witch-hunter, and this was the only thing I could remember that would help." As Rumpelstiltskin jumped gracefully down to the floor, landing next to her, she continued her embarrassed explanation. "I know it's not meant to be permanent, but I was just trying to buy some time until I could find something better."

Taking the proffered paper, Rumpelstiltskin smoothed out the folds and looked over the page. "Oh, no, no, no," he muttered. Indicating the paper, he said, "This is terrible. Wherever did you get this piece of drivel?"

"It's been handed down in my family's spell book, I don't know how long ago it was put in. But as you can see from the wording, it's clearly a very old spell." Miranda was anxious; it was one of the oldest spells in her book, how could it be drivel? Although to someone like Rumpelstiltskin, just about any spell must seem simplistic and quaint if half of what she'd heard about him was true.

"No, it's not," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "It's been written in the old style, yes, but poorly so. The verbs are conjugated all wrong. And some of the words have been changed so they seem more…antiquated. But this is hardly an old spell. I think someone's been pulling your chain, dearie."

Miranda gaped, her eyes filling with tears. Curse these hormones running through her body; she _never_ cried!

"No," Rumpelstiltskin said, crumpling the paper and throwing it into the unlit fireplace, "this spell would never actually work. You should feel lucky you didn't kill yourself with it." Despite the lack of flames, the paper behaved just as if it had been thrown into a fire, blackening and crackling before eventually crumbling to ash. Once it had done so, he asked, "So what _did_ go wrong, then, dearie?"

Looking down at Lilura, who was falling asleep again, Miranda wasn't sure how to answer.

"Ah," said Rumpelstiltskin, following Miranda's gaze. "He became…obsessed with you?" He giggled sinisterly. "Is that what you want me to fix? Or would you like me to take the results off your hands?"

Miranda clutched her baby tighter. She didn't want to give her daughter away!

"You're not exactly the mothering type," Rumpelstiltskin wheedled. "Why do you want it so badly?"

Not able to answer the question, Miranda said, "Brock – he knows she'll be a witch, and he –"

"Wants it dead, I presume," finished Rumpelstiltskin. "Such a very witch-hunter thing to do," he said, grimacing. "So why not let him kill it? Or just drown the little brat yourself and be done with it?"

"I – I don't know," Miranda replied. To change the subject, she said, "I want him out of my life. Can you do that?"

"Of course I can, doll. For a price." Rumpelstiltskin loomed over the prone hag, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. She wouldn't give up the baby; he didn't need her attempts to shield the infant to tell him that. But there were always other options. He might need to see through this little brat's magic down the road; he had certain plans in motion that might require him to use her. Rumpelstiltskin smiled an evil smile as he realized what he wanted from the hag.

"I can save you from him," he said, "but I'll be needing your eyes, dearie."

"My…eyes?" Miranda couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could her eyes be the price? What could he possibly want with someone's eyes?

"He'll find you here eventually, doll. Your fake spell saw to that." He grinned wickedly; she had already decided to give him what he wanted, even if she didn't realize it herself yet. Such an easy mark… But then again, weren't they all? That thought made him laugh.

* * *

><p>The discussion had gone on, long after Fawn and Noah's headlights had swept across the windows. When a good bit of time had passed and young Michael didn't return, Mr. Gold decided it was safe to have a little fun. He was irritated with Paige, so she might as well pay for it.<p>

He'd been admiring her dress all night; it was a lovely shade of blue, with layers of gently ruffled fabric starting at an empire waistline. It came down just below her knees, and had a v-neck that was rather modestly cut. He knew exactly what he wanted tonight, and it wasn't his usual preference. But what he had in mind would be much more embarrassing for Paige.

He led her over to the dining area. He could see from her expression that she thought she knew what was about to happen, so he watched her face closely as he stopped at the head of her dinner table. She looked at him uncertainly, and when she realized that he meant to have his way with her right there, she couldn't hide her dismay.

After moving the chair off to the side, Gold had Paige stand facing the table, but almost two feet away from it. He stood behind her, reaching around to massage her breasts without undressing her. After a few minutes, he slid one hand into the neckline of her dress, under her bra as well, to knead one breast more thoroughly. He could feel her nipple hardening, even though she was trying not to become aroused. Switching hands, he repeated the process on the other side.

Grasping the skirt of the dress, Mr. Gold began pulling the dress up around her hips. He held it there, stroking her sensitive spot through the thin, silky fabric of her panties. He smirked, pressing his hips against her backside as her breathing changed.

He slid her panties down her legs until they fell to the floor. She stepped out of them, and Mr. Gold held one hand around her hips while gently bending her forward with the other. She put her hands on the end of the table for support.

Normally, he preferred not to enter her from behind. He liked watching her face as she fought the pleasure, but he had seen just how much she had enjoyed this little dinner party tonight. Now he was going to make sure she would always think of him every time she sat down at this table.

Unzipping his pants, he used his cane to nudge her feet a little farther apart before sliding into her. When Paige folded her arms, bending down so she could hide her face against the table, Gold took her hair in one hand. Without any cruel yanking or pulling, he gently guided her head back up, forcing her to look at her dining area. "None of that, now, Paige," he said.

Using his left hand to hold Paige's dress up so it wouldn't slide back down over her hips, Mr. Gold reached his right hand around Paige's hips so he could stimulate the sweet spot while he thrust into her. He discovered that he could sort of see Paige's face in the mirrored back of her china cabinet. She kept trying to close her eyes or look away, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from glancing around the table. The look on her face made him smirk; she was mortified about doing this here. This was ample payment for him letting her claim young Michael as the father of her child…

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "True North."

As in Chapter Five, for the purposes of my story, a hag is a woman who is born with her own magical powers, but chooses to use only the darker magics. A witch, on the other hand, is born with the ability to use magic, but must find a source for her powers.

Witch-hunters are knights who wear armor that is designed to be impervious to spells, and they take on the dangerous task of hunting down all who would misuse magic. But when they first started, few outside of those who actually use dark magic knew that there were distinctions between the different types of users, so they were dubbed witch-hunters. They are basically daredevils and thrill-seekers; the chase is everything to them.

I do not believe that the blind witch in "True North" is the same as the one in "The Thing You Love Most." I am calling the one in "The Thing You Love Most" a blind hag, whom I have named Miranda; and she is Lilura's mother. In Storybrooke, the blind hag is Miss Ginger, which could be her first name. Even if her last name is not Sanford like Marsha's (Lilura's Storybrooke alter ego), she could have been married when she had Marsha but divorced the man and decided to revert to her maiden name… **I do not know ABC's intentions regarding either of their blind witches, or Miss Ginger. This is for the purposes of my story only!**


	10. S1 Ch10 - The Gravity Of Love

This chapter was a tough one to write! Parts of it made me smile, but other parts made me cry!

As usual. I do not own any of ABC's characters or plotlines!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Eliza waited anxiously. She had finally decided on a simple, belted dress that was a rich purple color, which she knew went nicely with her hair. Its long sleeves only trailed slightly, the underside coming to a point just below her fingertips when she let her arms hang at her sides. Despite all her efforts, she hadn't been able to put her hair up without it looking lopsided and ridiculous. She almost wished she had let her father bring one of her ladies-in-waiting out to the manor for this, but as she herself had pointed out to him, the girl from the swamp wasn't supposed to know that Owen had a daughter, so why would he bring a lady out to visit with his children? So Eliza had given up on her hair and merely brushed it thoroughly, leaving it to cascade loosely past her hips. She hoped it didn't look silly or childish.<p>

She had done only a little with her cosmetics; she simply outlined her eyes, darkened her lashes, and used the beeswax balm on her lips. It was the same makeup she had worn for her masquerade six weeks ago; even though Andrew had not stayed to see her face revealed, Eliza had wanted to mirror that night in some ways.

"Are you going to kiss him?" came a voice in her ear. Jumping, Eliza whirled to find the twins behind her. It was Marcel who had spoken, but both were grinning ear to ear, loving this rare chance to get the better of Eliza. They had just turned 12 a few days ago, and were as mischievous as ever.

"That's so gross, Eliza," Mason added. "Why would you want someone's tongue in your mouth? What if he has bad breath?"

"What if _you_ have bad breath?" Marcel said, improving on his brother's comment. "Here, let me smell," he teased, leaning closer to his sister.

Eliza shoved him away, her face bright red. "Leave me alone! Just wait until you two start getting interested in girls, I am going to humiliate you! If you don't behave while Andrew is here, you are never, _ever_ going to be able to bring any girls home without them hearing every embarrassing story I have on you two. I'll even tell them about the –"

"Oh, look!" cried Mason, "Here he comes!"

Whirling, Eliza put her hands to her cheeks, wishing her face weren't so red. But the path was empty. She really should have known, she supposed. She thought about chasing the twins, who had, of course, fled as soon as she turned her back to them, but that would only make her look even more disheveled and unkempt when Andrew arrived. So she took a deep breath, trying hard to calm herself and bring her cheeks back to their normal color.

After a few minutes more of waiting, her father emerged from the woods. "Eliza!" he cried, seeing his daughter waiting for him.

She was so glad to see her father that she ran to him, nearly knocking him down as she hugged and kissed him. "Father! It's been too long!"

"I know," he replied, hugging her tightly. "It's hard to get out here as often as I'd like, with that swamp woman always nagging at me." He sighed. "The time is approaching when I will no longer have any excuse to continue postponing the wedding," he admitted sadly. "A few more months at most. She is already quite irate with me."

"Do not let her under your skin, Father," Eliza said, not even noticing that Andrew had emerged from the woods and was standing nearby. "You will discover her plot soon enough, and be done with her. If you must, begin some early preparations for a wedding; that might get her guard down a bit."

Before Owen could respond, Andrew cleared his throat. He didn't want anyone to think he was intentionally eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Ah, Andrew," Owen said, "I'd almost forgotten you were here." Bowing as he placed Eliza's hand into Andrew's, Owen said, "Allow me to formally introduce you to my daughter, Eliza."

"It's good to see you again," Andrew murmured, kissing Eliza's hand without ever taking his eyes from her face.

She smiled, teasing, "Yes, it's good to see your entire face this time, Prince Andrew." He was handsome.

"Please, just Andrew." He smiled, and the way he looked at her made Eliza's heart beat a little bit faster.

But she still couldn't resist teasing him more. "Would you like me to show you your room, 'just Andrew'?" she asked, not quite able to hide her smirk.

"In a moment, Princess," he said. "There are a few matters we must discuss first."

"Oh?" she asked, purposely not giving him the option to call her Eliza. If she was right about his sense of humor, he would understand that she was still just teasing him.

"I would like to extend you an invitation. My birthday is in two months, and while I'm not having a masked extravaganza like yours, there _will_ be a ball. I was hoping you would accompany me." Before Eliza could answer, he added, "Of course, we would also like for you to stay with us for a few weeks, if that would be to your liking."

"Oh, 'tis very much to my liking. But I haven't a thing to wear to a ball here at the manor, and it would be very difficult for Father to get any of my things out here with that swamp-woman in the palace." Eliza wanted desperately to go. She had never felt this way about anyone before; all she could think about was getting the opportunity to spend time with him.

Andrew smiled. "As to that, my brother's wife has sent one of her seamstresses to take your measurements, should you wish to attend. That way, there will be a dress ready for you upon your arrival."

Eliza felt like her heart could almost burst from happiness. "Then yes, Andrew, I will certainly accept your kind invitation."

* * *

><p>"Sorry I didn't come back last night," Mike said. "Noah and Fawn stayed a lot later than I thought they would, and I had to be at work early. They really like you, by the way. They think it's incredible that you haven't given up after everything you've been through. Noah says you're a keeper," he added, making it sound more like a joke.<p>

Paige wanted to cry; she wanted _Mike_ to think she was a keeper. It was nice that his brother approved of her, but if only Mike loved her, really loved her, she could handle any amount of scorn and rejection from his brother.

**It's okay. Mr. Gold stayed pretty late last night, too. We…we had a lot to… talk about. **Of course, it hadn't all involved talking. She knew that it was some time after Noah and Fawn had left that the conversation had finished and other things began; she only hoped Mike had already gone upstairs to bed and been unable to hear any noises that might have been coming from her dining area. It seemed like any time Gold found out that she enjoyed something, such as cooking for people, he found a way to taint it for her. Paige could never sit down at that table again without thinking of what he had done to her there. It was beginning to seem like he was trying to ruin every part of her home, leaving her with no place that was free of memories that would make her blush.

Mike noticed Paige's preoccupation, but he didn't know the cause. "So how did it go? What did he say?"

**He…seemed to take it well enough. I don't know, maybe he was in shock or something, but he didn't freak out or anything. Or yell.**

"You thought he would yell at you?" Mike realized that he hadn't really tried to find out why Paige was so reluctant to tell Mr. Gold she was pregnant.

**It was…one possibility. We…didn't use any protection, and if he had assumed that I was on the pill or something, he might have been very upset that I didn't tell him that I'm not. **Mike didn't need to know that Gold had never cared about using contraceptives. She had been afraid that he would yell at her for trying to get someone else to say he was the father, or because she hadn't gone through him to find out that she was pregnant. Of course, she had been even more worried that she would give herself away, which she had managed to somehow avoid. She wondered how much longer she could hide the fact that she remembered everything.

Mike made a noncommittal noise. He really just did not want to picture Paige and Gold together, but the image kept trying to form in his mind. Gold was so much older than Paige! Did she find him…attractive? Or was it just because he was the one who happened to be there for her? Mike couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Noah had sat with their mother. If Mike had been holding a crying, terrified Paige, would he have done what Gold did? Would he be the one who was going to become a father? Would Paige have even needed comfort so desperately that she sought it in sex? Perhaps, if he had stayed with Paige, this whole situation could have been avoided.

**He's not too happy about pretending the baby is yours, but you were right, he doesn't want to take that blow to his reputation. Mostly because he's my legal guardian and people will think he's been abusing that power, but also because of what people would say about our age difference. He definitely wants to have a place in the child's life, though, perhaps as an uncle or something, and he is willing to help out with money. You were right about that, too.**

Not wanting to say he had told her so, Mike instead latched on to a different part of what Paige had said. "You could always ask Mr. Gold to be the godfather," he suggested.

**I suppose. I'll have to talk to him about it, I guess. **Paige didn't really want to talk to Gold about the baby any more than she had to. She might give herself away.

Mike's thoughts had turned inward, still fighting that mental image. For some reason, despite what Paige had told him, he couldn't shake the thought that she would never willingly let Gold touch her. "I still can't believe this is happening."

**I'm sorry. This is all my fault. **And really, it was. She was the one who had signed Rumpelstiltskin's contract in her other life. He had told her that she would get with child, and she had still signed anyway. But how could she have left her brothers to spend their lives as swans just to keep her chastity intact?

"Was he at least gentle with you?" Mike still wondered if Gold had hurt her in any way. Paige insisted that it had been her doing, but he couldn't wrap his head around the idea that she had _wanted_ to have sex with Gold.

Still lost in her thoughts of her distant brothers, Paige answered the question without even thinking about what she was saying. It wasn't entirely a lie; if he was only asking about Gold, about this world, her answer was the truth. **Always. **As she finished the sign, she realized what she had said and froze, praying that Mike had been too preoccupied to catch on to her meaning. But when she turned to look at him, slowly, like one does in a nightmare, his mouth had fallen open. He was staring at her in disgust and horror.

* * *

><p>"Sorry about my brothers," Eliza said once the manor had fallen out of sight behind the edge of the forest.<p>

"No need to apologize," replied Andrew. "They remind me of what Tristan and I were like when we were younger. Except _we_ never had a sister we could embarrass," he teased.

"I can't imagine what it must be like to grow up with only one brother," Eliza mused.

"Well, I find it hard to imagine having six of them," Andrew countered.

"I guess that's true of everyone," Eliza said, laughing a little. "My brothers probably can't imagine growing up without a big sister."

"What's normal to one person can seem strange beyond belief to another," Andrew said, shifting the heavy hamper to the other side. "So how far away is this place you're taking me?"

"It's just over a mile." Smiling, Eliza couldn't help but add, "Let me know if you need me to carry that for you."

Andrew chuckled; the hamper wasn't _that_ heavy. "I think I'll be alright, but I thank you for your concern, Princess."

Eliza, carrying her violin case and a smaller hamper, said, "If you change your mind, just let me know."

"So, aside from belittling handsome young princes and playing the violin, what do you like to do with your time?" Andrew teased.

Eliza laughed. "Well, I love to cook for people, for one thing."

"And you're very good at it, too," Andrew said, remembering last night's dinner. The notion made his mouth water, wondering what she'd made for their picnic lunch today. He thoughtfully eyed the hamper he was carrying.

"I also enjoy archery and jousting," she said, watching Andrew's face out of the corner of her eye.

Not quite taking her seriously, Andrew said, "Archery, eh? You like to hunt?"

"Actually, no. I prefer to speed my arrows to targets that do not bleed." She looked thoughtful. "I don't like to take a life, no matter how insignificant an animal might seem to some. I've only done it once, when Father was ill and couldn't bring fresh supplies out to the manor. Skinning and cleaning it was gross enough, but I've done that before. No, the worst part was knowing that I was the one who killed it."

"I'm sorry you had to do something you find so distasteful," Andrew said seriously.

"It had to be done," Eliza replied, shrugging. "And that is the only life I have to look forward to," she added sadly.

"What do you mean, Eliza?"

"I am going to be Queen someday. My life will be little more than doing what must be done for my people," she said. "Even if it means sacrificing what I want for myself."

"Surely it won't be as bad as all that," Andrew said, trying to comfort her.

"A ruling Queen cannot drop everything to spend an afternoon at tilting. And a Queen is seldom able to simply walk through the forest without her retinue and a contingent of guards." She stopped walking. "A Queen sacrifices much. I'm not sure I'm ready to do that. I…I'm afraid I'll resent it."

Andrew stepped in front of Eliza and put his hand on her shoulder. "That is why a Queen needs to find someone who can help her keep as much of herself as possible. Someone who can sneak her away from her duties once in a while, and comfort her when she cannot shirk. I do not know you well yet, Eliza, but from everything I've seen, I believe you will make a wonderful Queen."

"I think so, too. That's what worries me, Andrew, that I'll be such a good Queen that I won't sneak away from my duties even when I can."

"Well, if I'm part of your life when you are Queen, I shall make sure you never lose yourself as completely as you fear," Andrew promised, cupping her face in his free hand.

Eliza smiled, her eyes brimming with tears. Without another word, she took Andrew's hand and started walking again, leading him down the path to her favorite spot in this forest.

* * *

><p>Almost two hours later, Eliza put down her violin.<p>

"You play beautifully," Andrew said.

"Mother was a far better player than me," Eliza said, embarrassed.

Andrew was stretched out on the blanket, digesting his meal as he had listened to Eliza's violin. "Did she teach you?"

"Yes. But just the violin, not cooking. Mother wasn't particularly talented in the kitchen," Eliza said, a fondly reminiscent smile on her face. She shivered. "'Tis getting colder," she said.

"And cloudy," Andrew noted, looking up at the sky.

"I suppose we should head back," Eliza said. "It's lucky it hasn't snowed here yet, or I never would have been able to bring you out here."

"I'm glad you did," Andrew said, sitting up. He shifted so he was closer to her. "It was nice to see a place you love so much."

Eliza's breath caught. He was so close. She trembled as he leaned even closer. He met her eyes as he tilted his head. As if by some pre-arranged signal, they both closed their eyes at the same moment. Then their lips met, and they both felt the spark. Andrew put one hand on the back of Eliza's neck, gently cradling her head, while Eliza put her fingers to Andrew's jaw. It was a fairly chaste kiss, but lingering.

When they broke apart, they kept their faces close, staring into one another's eyes. Snow was just starting to fall, thick white flakes that dotted their hair and their clothes. One caught on Eliza's eyelashes, and she licked her lips as Andrew reached up to brush it away. They kissed again, a shorter kiss, but still chaste, then Eliza said, "We should really be getting back to the manor." Her voice was breathless with emotion.

"We wouldn't want to get caught out here in the snow, I suppose," Andrew agreed. Then he thought of something. "If there's a lot of this snow, will your father be able to come back for me?"

"That won't be a problem. That's part of the magic of the manor; when father uses the ball of yarn, he can always find his way there, no matter what lies between the bridge and the manor." As she spoke, Eliza gathered everything up and put it neatly back into the hamper Andrew had carried. The empty champagne bottle, the drinking flutes, and the blanket went into her smaller hamper. Then she picked up her violin case, and they left the clearing, not talking much, but frequently locking glances.

* * *

><p>Mike wasn't even looking at her as he paced back and forth, lecturing her. Paige took one of the accent pillows on her couch and threw it at him. He finally looked at her.<p>

**Are you actually interested in what I have to say on the matter, or are you just trying to make yourself feel like a better person by ripping my integrity apart?**

"This has nothing to do with me," Mike said, incredulous. "I'm not the one throwing myself into Mr. Gold's bed. And I'm also not the one who lied about it!" Mike shuddered. "He's old enough to be your father, Paige!"

**You have no say in this, Mike. You don't even want me that way. Why should you care what I do and who I do it with?**

"How could you do anything with that man?" Suddenly, Mike thought of something. "Is this what you mean when you say that he's been so good to you?" When Paige's face became more guarded, he automatically assumed that it was true. "That's disgusting! How could you enjoy letting that man touch you?"

**Mr. Gold knows how to make me feel good, he has taken the time to learn what I like and what I don't. **At Mike's expression, she added, **You know, if I didn't know better, Mike, I'd think you were jealous!**

Mike felt like she had hit him with a hammer. Jealous? Him? "As if, Paige," he sneered, never even realizing how deep a chord she had struck. "You are perverted if you can enjoy having sex with a creepy old man like Gold." Mike had always felt an instinctual dislike of Gold, but his rational mind had seen how much the man had helped Paige, so he had ignored it. He had also ignored the fact that everyone else in town despised the man, assuming that they just hadn't had the chance to see his good heart. But now Mike let his disgust out; the man was clearly nothing more than a despicable lecher. "He's only taking advantage of you, Paige. I doubt he really cares about you."

**So what?** she signed. **He's amazing at foreplay, and he always makes sure I get my pleasure out of our times together. And that's all this is about. He has no feelings for me and I have none for him. No one else wants me, so why shouldn't I find pleasure where I can?**

"So what, he's your guardian with benefits?" Mike was disgusted to hear Paige talking like this. How could she really want this?

With an irritated look on her face, Paige responded, **Yeah, I guess you could put it that way. He's the only man who's ever wanted me. It's not like I'm pretty, like Ruby is.**

"Shut up, Paige. You're beautiful, and you know it."

**Would you say that to me if you were sure you were a straight man? **

Mike opened his mouth to say that he certainly would, but he stopped before saying it. Would he tell her she was beautiful if he was interested in girls? He tried to figure it out. For some reason, he felt like it was absolutely vital that he give an honest answer.

**Exactly,** Paige signed after a long moment of silence. **You wouldn't, because you would be afraid that I would read too much into it and assume that you wanted me. Which you don't. No one does, except Mr. Gold. **Gesturing to her plus-sized frame, Paige added, **I guess when a man gets older, he gets less shallow.**

Mike replied, "Maybe you only let him have his way with you because you believe that you don't deserve to be loved. If you had some self-respect, you would kick him to the curb and find someone who will love you for who you are. You deserve that, Paige. What if Mr. Gold only wants you because no one wants _him_? Oh, but there you are; you're always willing to open your legs for him." On a roll, Mike barreled on over whatever Paige was trying to sign to him. "And from how much you're blushing, it looks like you're ashamed of your little 'relationship' with Gold, so maybe you should stop."

**Mike, I'm talking to a man I have feelings for, not only telling him that I'm having sex with another man, but that I enjoy it. How is that not supposed to be awkward and embarrassing? Is it really that weird that I should be blushing right now? **Paige's blushes came in part because she was lying to Mike, which she hated doing, but also because she was starting to realize something. In defending her actions to both Emma and Mike, she had begun to realize that she really did enjoy Gold's attentions, especially once her mind gave up fighting the pleasure. It made her more ashamed than ever. She hoped she could keep this revelation to herself; Gold had far too much power over her as it was. It would not be easy, though, as empathetic as he often proved to be. Of course, that was assuming that he didn't already know it.

"How can you sit there and say you have feelings for me when you go running to Gold's pants for comfort? How long has this been going on? Since you were all healed up after those guys raped you?" Saying that made Mike think of something worse. "Is that what made you start doing this? I thought that was just some kind of crappy, unrealistic porno plot, the rape victim discovering that she _likes_ being degraded by men."

**You're the one standing here degrading me, Mike. Mr. Gold treats me like a woman, not a porn star. He makes sure that we both enjoy ourselves. He doesn't call me a whore, and he damn sure doesn't treat me like one. It was years before anything happened between us, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I was raped. He has been nothing but respectful. **In a way, that was true, at least here in Storybrooke. While he always did something nice for her or gave her something in return for each time he had his way with her, he had always made certain that no position was too uncomfortable for her, and he made absolutely sure that her pleasure came before his. Of course, she suspected that the latter was little more than an attempt to break her habit of fighting that pleasure. Even so, it was kind of nice, in a weird way, to know that she could count on enjoying herself every time.

"That is sick, Paige. That's not respect he's showing you. It's lust, plain and simple. He is sick and twisted, and so are you."

**I don't think it's sick for two people to enjoy having sex with each other. What bothers you more, that Mr. Gold and I don't have any feelings for each other, or that I'm finding sexual pleasure and you're not? **When Mike couldn't answer that question, Paige went on, taking up a topic that had been irritating her for quite some time now. **You always seem to think that I've got no one in this wide world but you and Gold. Don't think I haven't noticed that. When Ruby and I made friends, you couldn't believe it at first. What, you think that just because I can't talk, I'm not worth being friends with for anyone who doesn't know sign language? I'm not good enough, I don't **_**deserve**_** friends?**

"That's not what I think," Mike protested, his own cheeks flushing as he remembered that it been quite difficult at first for him to think of Paige having friends. He had hoped that those thoughts hadn't shown, but apparently Paige was more perceptive than he had given her credit for. "I know better than anybody that you deserve so much more than the crap you've been given. But you also deserve better than a sinister old man like Gold. You shouldn't have to run to him, not when you have me."

**But that's just it, Mike, I don't have you! You're my best friend, and I'm in love with you, but you don't even like girls. You probably find it disgusting that I'd much rather be having sex with you than with Mr. Gold. You don't want me the way I want you. You're my friend, Mike. Just my friend, not my boyfriend. Who I'm having sex with is none of your business.**

"What, just because I'm more interested in guys, I'm not supposed to care about your well-being? Because that's what I'm concerned about here, Paige."

**No it's not. You're jealous. Maybe not jealous of Gold, but you **_**are**_** jealous that I'm having sex with someone. You can't stand it that I know what I want in a sexual partner and that I found it. **Paige was crying now; not so much because she and Mike were having this fight, but more because she had no choice but to lie to him. Maybe, just maybe, he could forgive her if he knew why she was really having sex with Mr. Gold. But if she told him the truth, she would be breaking her contract, and destroying her brothers' last hope. Paige got up from the couch, walking closer to Mike. **You don't even know what you want. I mean, do you honestly believe you **_**might**_** be gay? Or are you just using your supposed uncertainty to hide fear?**

Mike just stared at Paige, his mouth opening and closing as he failed to find any words.

**You've never done anything with a man **_**or**_** a woman, never even kissed, so how could you know? **That was only true here in Storybrooke, of course; probably as a result of the Curse, keeping the two of them from finding their happy ending. **I'm a woman, Mike. I'm a woman, and I am right here in front of you. Kiss me, hold me, touch me. That's all you have to do to find out for sure. **Paige held out her arms. She wanted Mike to do this more than anything. If only he would kiss her, it _might_ bring back his memories. True love's kiss was supposed to be able to break curses. She doubted that Mike kissing her would completely break the Evil Queen's Curse, but it might be enough to give him back his true past. She still wouldn't be able to tell him the truth about Gold, but at least he would remember having loved her once.

Mike made no response; he wouldn't even meet her eyes.

**But you won't, will you? What are you afraid of, Mike? The truth? Commitment? Me? What, Mike, what's holding you back?**

Mike's jaw clenched. He still didn't know what to say.

**We all have our flaws, Mike. But I never knew cowardice was one of yours. **Paige hated the things she was saying to him, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She was so angry right now, with him for the things he was saying, with Gold for forcing her to lie to her beloved, and with herself for not being able to control her temper.

Mike finally found something to say. "And I never knew one of yours was that you were a lying, worthless slut." With that, he stalked out the door. Paige, reeling, heard Mike's front door open. A moment later, it was slammed shut, and a moment after that, the car started. Paige ran to her door, which Mike had neglected to shut behind him. Sobbing, she collapsed on the porch as she watched Mike drive away.

* * *

><p>Andrew's two-week stay had been over far sooner than Eliza would have liked, but knowing that he would return to escort her to his kingdom had kept her going. Those six weeks had seemed interminable, of course, but at last they were up.<p>

King Owen had brought the governess with him; fortunately, she resided in a town between the castle and the old bridge, so he hadn't needed to worry about sneaking her out without Lilura finding out. He had begun some preparations for the supposed wedding, as Eliza had suggested, but so far, Lilura didn't seem to be appeased by them.

"I'll only be gone for about three weeks, Father," Eliza protested when Owen hugged her tightly, crying. The three weeks included travel time.

"Every time we've been apart before, you've been either at the manor or the palace. I knew you were safe." Despite wanting Eliza to fall in love, Owen was finding it hard to let her go. She would always be his little girl, and he didn't like the idea of her crossing the dangerous territory between his kingdom and Tristan's.

Andrew stepped up, saying, "Your Highness, my guard-captain and I have put together a route that we believe will minimize the danger. It will add a day or so to our journey, but we intend to skirt around the edges of the Betrayer's kingdom. We feel it will be our best option to keep your daughter as safe as possible." He put a hand on Owen's arm. "If needs be, I will give my life in Eliza's defense." Andrew met the king's eye for a long moment. "I just wanted you to know that, Sire."

Owen nodded, saying, "No words can express my gratitude. I know she will be safe with you." He laid his hand on Andrew's shoulder in a gesture of blessing. It was still hard to see Eliza go off into the unknown, but he had suddenly realized that, whether they knew it yet or not, Andrew and Eliza were in love as surely as he and Aenor had been. He could see it in the way they looked at one another.

* * *

><p>"How are you holding up, Eliza?" asked Andrew, bringing the princess a mug of hot tea.<p>

"I admit, I am hardly accustomed to traveling this much. I am well enough, though. Thank you." Eliza smiled as she took the mug carefully. After a tentative sip, she found that it was the perfect temperature, whether by accident or by design. She drank deeper, and sighed appreciatively. "Mother always said that hot tea was sovereign for any ill," she remarked.

Andrew chuckled. "My mother says much the same thing," he said.

"Will I meet her?" Eliza was curious; Andrew had not been very open about his mother.

He hesitated before answering. "I'm afraid not. She has…been exiled." He watched Eliza's face, not knowing why he felt so nervous about admitting this. "She – she plotted against my brother. She wanted…to raise me to the throne," he confessed. "I told her many times that I did not want to rule. What do I truly know of the common folk? A soldier I am, and they are all I know. I am not suited for the ruling of any kingdom. But Mother insisted, and even summoned…one whose name I should probably not bring up in polite company. She wanted my fortune told. And it was foreseen that I would be a king, but that I would not rule."

He did not tell her the rest; he could not know for certain yet, but what other "flame-haired" Crown Princess could exist in the world? He didn't know very much about the kingdoms on the other side of the Wolfswood, but nothing he'd heard had ever led him to believe that they had very many ruling queens. And the betrothal agreement that had been drafted certainly accounted for the prophecy that both kingdoms would grow. But he worried about Rumpelstiltskin's final comment. "Provided, of course, that you can keep anyone from getting murdered." The words echoed in his memory, and he knew he could never introduce Eliza to his mother. She would never forgive the princess for stealing his heart.

After a long moment of silence while Eliza sipped her tea, she said, "I'm sorry to hear that about your mother. I am sure she had only your best interests at heart, but she should not have plotted against her own son."

Given their kingdoms' shared history, Andrew knew exactly what she meant. "Unlike us, she is not descended from the Betrayer. She does not understand the meaning of that history as you and I do."

"There is no shame in continuing to love her, Andrew," Eliza said, putting her hand on his. He smiled at her. He didn't understand how she had seen so deeply into his heart, but her words were a great comfort to him.

* * *

><p>[I'm sorry, doctor. Now that i'm here, i don't know if i can talk about it] Paige texted. She was glad Archie had agreed to see her on such short notice, but the pain was just too fresh.<p>

"Maybe it would be easier to tell me what you two fought about," Archie suggested.

[He…he found out something that upset him] Paige sent.

"Can you tell me what it was?" Archie could tell that Paige was confused and devastated. She wasn't usually this reticent during their sessions.

[I … it's about mr. gold. About…the real reason i moved out.] Paige hated lying, and it felt like that was all she had done all day long. [There's a reason why he was so helpful in making sure i could live on my own… something happened. Or at least, it almost did.]

When he saw that Paige was hesitating, Archie prompted, "What was that reason, Paige?" He could sense that this was something important, some deep, dark secret that Paige had been keeping for quite some time.

She thought for a moment longer about what, exactly, to say before her thumbs started hitting the keys again. [I kinda thought that I was falling for mr. gold. I wanted… things nice girls aren't supposed to want. With him.] Paige began to wish she had never come. She felt like she had told so many lies about Mr. Gold that she would soon drown in them.

Archie swallowed. Yes, this certainly was a deep, dark secret. Paige and Mr. Gold? But it was not his place to judge. "And did you…follow up on those desires?"

[Almost. But he kept his distance. And then i started to have feelings for mike, and i was so confused.] Paige hoped Archie was not as good at detecting lies as Emma was. [So we decided that it might be best if i moved out – if i was no longer living with mr. gold. We figured it was just because he was the one who saved me, you know?]

"That does happen," Archie agreed.

[The thing is, mike didn't know about any of this. Until today…]

"And he couldn't deal with it?" asked Archie.

[He felt like he was second-best. That i only turned to him because mr gold turned me down. And he also thinks that it might even be for a similar reason, since he's the one who taught me sign language…]

"I think maybe he just needs time," said Archie. "Let him cool down, and when he comes back, try to talk it over with him. You can both come to me if you feel it will help." Feeling like he was stating the obvious, he added, "And it _is_ possible that your feelings for him are perhaps not as genuine as they seem right now, but from what I've seen of the two of you, I'm pretty sure that's not the case here."

[If he comes back] Paige texted, her expression worried.

"I'm sure he will," Archie reassured her. "I've seen how much he cares for you, Paige. He won't just leave you on your own like this."

[I hope not. Especially not now…] As soon as she hit the Send button, Paige winced.

"What makes it so vital _now_, Paige?" asked Archie.

[I…wasn't planning on telling too many people just yet… I know you'll hold it in confidence, but… I wasn't ready, not yet. But you see… I'm pregnant.]

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I… normally, I would say congratulations, but I don't imagine you really want to hear that right now." After a moment, he added, "I sincerely hope that you and Mike can get everything all worked out. And if there's ever anything I can do to help, please, just let me know."

[Thank you, dr. hopper, i appreciate that.]

Archie looked out the window. "It looks like that storm is going to hit soon, are you going to be okay?"

[From what i heard, it's not supposed to start until later. I'll make it home in plenty of time. Thank you.]

* * *

><p>Mike didn't know where he was going, he was just driving. He had gone to some of his favorite spots, but once there, he couldn't stand the idea of being there. He found himself out on one of the access roads in the woods. There was an old cabin out this way that he and his brother had played outside of as children. They had no idea who owned it. It had always been locked, and they had never asked their parents about it. They'd been afraid that they would be forbidden to play there if they did.<p>

But he saw two cars stopped ahead. When he got out to investigate, he discovered that the road was closed and both cars were empty. The car closest to the barrier belonged to Mary Margaret. He didn't recognize the second car, but he gave it an unfriendly look. If only this person wasn't hiking with her, he could go out and find her. He thought he could remember the path she usually took. She was always a great listener. He couldn't bear to tell her the whole truth, of course, but he felt it would help to have someone lend a sympathetic ear to what small portions of his problem he would feel comfortable discussing.

He supposed he could still go out to the cabin; Mary Margaret's normal route didn't take her too close to it. But knowing that there were other people somewhere in the vicinity ruined it for him, so he got back into his car, backing up until he found a spot where he could turn around. He couldn't imagine why anyone would go for a walk when a bad storm was coming, but it really wasn't any of his business.

Finding a secluded area, he parked his car and sat there, staring off into the woods but not actually seeing anything. Him, jealous? Of that creep, Gold? Hardly. Mike found himself considering the idea of moving to Boston. Maybe, with a fresh start in a new place, his dreams could come true. He could get a job, or two if necessary, and work to put himself through school. He could become a teacher and go wherever there was work. Anywhere but Storybrooke.

He wasn't sure he could stay here now. Aside from the fact that Storybrooke was rather conservative, the only things that had tied him here were his mother and, later, Paige. But his mother was in a home now, where she would be in good hands, and Paige had her dirty old man. Why would she need Mike now? He had taught her sign language and helped her figure out how to move out on her own. She was done with him; there wasn't anything else he could give her, not that he was willing to give, anyway.

She was right, he had never even kissed anyone yet, but just the idea of kissing girls made him uncomfortable. Kissing guys, on the other hand, seemed so intriguing. So why couldn't he stop imagining himself taking Paige in his arms and kissing her like a chick flick? For some reason, when he thought of Paige that way, it was not as bad as the thought of kissing any other girl, but it also didn't compare with how he'd felt when he had imagined what it would be like to kiss Graham.

Mike laid his head down on the steering wheel. What should he do? Could he _really_ just run off to Boston like that? Like any new idea, it was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

* * *

><p>As she had told Archie, Paige easily made it home before the storm started. But she stood outside the house, looking up at Mike's half. His windows were dark, and his car was still gone. She couldn't bear to go back into her own living room; she didn't want to be in the place where they had fought. It would have been a long walk to Noah and Fawn's house, so Paige pulled out her phone and texted Noah.<p>

[Have you seen mike? We... we had a fight earlier and i haven't seen him since.]

She waited, fidgeting impatiently. She thought about texting Ruby, but right now she wasn't sure she wanted the sympathy she knew Ruby would give. She had stopped crying, but if anyone showed sympathy, or, worse, pity, she knew she would cry even harder than before.

Finally, her phone went off. [No, i'm afraid not] Noah texted. Before Paige could even reply, another message from Noah appeared. [I'm really sorry, if i hear from him i'll let you know.]

[K, thanks] she texted back, biting her lips. She went back down the porch steps and headed for Mr. Gold's house. It was starting to rain. She kept telling herself that she wasn't supposed to be alone in the duplex, but the real reason, the reason she wouldn't admit even to herself, was not only that she didn't want to go back to the place where they had fought, but that she couldn't bear the thought of making the situation worse by having Gold in her house tonight.

By the time she got to Gold's, the rain was pounding down, but Paige walked slowly, as if she didn't even realize that she was getting more soaked by the moment. Her coat didn't have a hood, and the hat she wore provided no protection of her collar, so the rain was running down inside the back of her coat as well. She stood outside of Mr. Gold's house, looking at the beautiful stained glass squares set into his doors. She walked up to the bell, but couldn't make herself press the button.

Paige turned around and headed back out into the rain. She walked all the way home again, only to collapse in the yard. She couldn't go in there! She wouldn't! She sat there for several minutes, heedless of the mud that was forming all around her. When she tried to get up, she slipped, barely catching herself from ending up face first in the mud. Not knowing what else to do, she reached for her phone. But it had fallen out of her pocket, and when she found it at the bottom of a muddy puddle, it would not turn on. So she shoved it back into her pocket and began to trudge wearily back to Mr. Gold's house.

This time, she nearly rang the bell, but her hand dropped. She didn't want to be around anyone right now. Especially not Gold. She headed back down his walk, but tripped over a piece of a branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. Once she hit the ground, she couldn't make herself get up again. She was certain she had lost Mike over this, and the worst thing was that she couldn't imagine his fairy-tale self taking the news any better. In fact, it might have been worse in the world that was. That she allowed Rumpelstiltskin to take such liberties would likely have broken their betrothal, especially since the vile little imp had fathered a child on her. A child who would end up ruling her realm, unless that child was found to be unworthy or, for any reason, incapable.

Was there really any point any more? She had lost her true love. But suddenly, Paige sat up. There were still her brothers to consider. Even if her life was no longer worth living, she had to carry on for their sake. They deserved the chance for their own happiness; she could not take that from them just because her life was ruined. But she still could not stomach the thought of running to Gold, so she just sat there in the middle of his walkway.

* * *

><p>Eliza half-stood up in her stirrups as she watched closely. She had missed only one ring, in her second round, and so far Andrew hadn't missed any. He was just starting his third and final round.<p>

As Andrew missed the ninth ring, Eliza smiled. They were tied now, and if he missed the last ring, she would win.

But Andrew did not let his one miss distract him; the point of his lance caught the last ring, which slid down to join the other eight. Eliza watched as he turned his horse, trotting toward her. She couldn't help admiring him, especially the smile on his face. It was clear that he loved this sport as much as she did.

"It seems like we're evenly matched, Princess," Andrew said as he rode up next to her. Eliza felt a fluttering in her stomach as that smile was turned on her.

"Apparently," Eliza said, smiling back. "So do you want to try this again, or shall I unhorse you now?"

"You think you stand a chance against me?" Andrew couldn't quite tell if she was serious.

"Oh, I think I can hold my own," she said.

"You should know, I've won every tournament I've entered," he warned.

"Perhaps _you_ should know that I've bested Sir Ryan, who has won every tournament _he_ has ever entered." As they bantered, they guided their horses so that they were circling each other.

"And just how many tries did that take, Princess?" Andrew teased.

"We've jousted four times," Eliza said. "The first, Ryan won. And since then, I've trounced him thrice." She tried to state it as a simple fact, but she couldn't keep a trace of pride from creeping into her voice.

Although impressed, Andrew couldn't resist teasing her further. "Sir Ryan," he mused, "yes, I've met him. Not to tilt against, you understand. But he's, ah, a bit long in the tooth, though, isn't he? A man past his prime like that – did you _let_ him win the first time for the sake of his pride? Or perhaps," he added, "it was he who let _you _win. Perhaps you are not so skilled as you think, Princess."

It angered Eliza to hear him belittle Sir Ryan like this, but she knew he was, at least in part, trying to make her angry enough that she would lose this verbal battle. But even though she was determined to keep her calm, her smile was tight as she replied, "What's the matter, Andrew? Afraid of being beaten by a girl?"

With a mischievous smile, Andrew countered, "I'm _afraid_, Eliza, that I'll be picking you up off the ground before the day is out."

* * *

><p>On the first pass, Eliza's lance had merely glanced off Andrew's shield, while his lance-tip broke off on her own shield. But she had seen why; Andrew had rotated his torso to the left just before their lances struck. She would be prepared for that next time.<p>

When she reached her starting point, Eliza handed her shield to one of the young squires attending her. She shook her left arm vigorously; that _still_ stung! She and Andrew were, indeed, closely matched in skill, but she had a plan to get around that tricky little twist of his.

Once they were both re-armed and ready for their next pass, Eliza settled herself a little farther back in the saddle than she normally would. They lowered their lances and sped their horses down the field.

Andrew watched Eliza's lance, expertly judging his moment. He was taken quite by surprise when his opponent shifted forward and, clutching her horse tightly with her legs, threw all her body weight into her lance arm. Her quick movement had left him with no time to twist his shield, and he felt the jolt as Eliza's lance struck home. His own lance forgotten, Andrew struggled to keep his seat, but after a long moment of seeming weightlessness, he felt more than heard the clash of his armor hitting the ground. He had never been so grateful for the sweat-inducing layers of padding inside his metal shell.

For a time that could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, as far as Andrew could tell, he lay on his back re-learning how to breathe. Suddenly, Eliza appeared in his line of sight. She had removed her gauntlets and her helm, and was standing by his left side. Her mouth moved, but he couldn't make sense of the words. But he did understand the arm that she offered. He removed his own gauntlets and helmet before reaching across his body with his right hand to grasp Eliza's wrist. He side-swiped her feet with his left arm, pulling on the wrist he held so that her body would twist as she fell. This way, she would land on her back rather than on her side. As she crashed to the ground beside him, he noticed that he could hear the clatter of her armor. It wasn't quite as loud as it should have been just yet, but it meant that his ears were coming to their senses.

Waving away the anxious squires, Andrew unbuckled the larger pieces of his armor. Red-faced and still breathing heavily, he rolled to his hands and knees before slowly getting to his feet. He offered Eliza his hand. "I told you I would be picking you up off the ground before the day was out," he teased. The effect was only slightly spoiled by the fact that he hadn't quite caught his breath yet.

Eliza, trying to unbuckle her own armor, started laughing so hard she couldn't even find the buckles. As Andrew knelt to help her, he couldn't help laughing too. He hadn't been unhorsed since his days in training, but if someone had to figure out how to beat his trick, he was glad it was Eliza.

* * *

><p>The wind had really picked up; Gold had heard branches cracking. He pushed the curtains aside to look out into the storm. The rain seemed to be going nearly sideways in the wind, and the trees were tossing wildly. Then he noticed a strange shape on his walkway. At first he couldn't make sense of it, but suddenly he realized that it was a person sitting there! He thought he could even make out a glimpse of red hair; what could Paige be doing out there in the storm?<p>

He thought about grabbing an umbrella, but that would leave both of his hands occupied, and Paige, presuming it was her, might need some assistance, so he threw on a raincoat and put up the hood before heading out the door.

When he reached the figure, it was indeed Paige; her hat was lying in the mud a little distance away, as if she had been lying full out when it fell. Indeed, she was so covered in mud that it almost looked like she had been mud-wrestling.

"Paige?" Mr. Gold said, taking hold of her muddy arm. She looked up at him, but he wasn't sure she was actually seeing him. "Come on, then, let's get you inside."

Docile as a lamb, Paige let him pull her to her feet and lead her into his house.

* * *

><p>Once their wet coats and shoes had been placed where they could dry without dripping all over the floor, Mr. Gold took hold of Paige by her upper arms. "Paige, what happened?" She simply stared off into the distance over his shoulder, her face bleak, so he shook her gently. "Tell me what happened, Paige," he insisted.<p>

Her eyes finally focused on him, and her hands came up. **Mike…we had a fight. He left. **She stood there for a moment, swallowing hard. **I don't think he's coming back.**

"You poor thing," Gold said, trying to pull Paige into an embrace.

**No,** Paige signed, suddenly realizing how very wet and muddy she was, **you'll ruin your suit. **She tried to push him away, but he put his arms around her anyway.

"This suit doesn't matter. I can always get a new one." With that bit of kindness, Paige lost it. She clung to him, sobbing her heart out. She could no longer stand on her own, and with Gold's leg already bothering him a bit because of the weather, all he could do was try to make sure neither of them got hurt as they sank to the floor. They ended up with Paige huddled in a fetal position, leaning against Mr. Gold.

He stroked her hair and whispered comforting nonsense to her. When her sobs finally started giving way to hiccupping gasps, he said, "Come along, we need to get you clean and dry."

After maneuvering himself back up, he held out his hand. Paige took it without hesitation, and he led her upstairs to the master bathroom. He pulled out a robe that he had bought for her just before he found out that she was trying to move out on her own. Because she had left his house, he'd never actually given it to her. It was almost indecent, being just this side of see-through. "Take your clothes off and put this on," he said, "while I run you a bath. I can launder your things while you bathe."

Uncharacteristically, Paige didn't even wait for him to turn around as she began mechanically removing her clothes.

* * *

><p>The dress Ayala's seamstresses had made for Eliza was beautiful. It was emerald green, which Andrew said he had specifically requested, since he thought it would go so well with her hair. As he had said, the ball was nothing to compare with her masquerade, but she enjoyed it almost as much, knowing that Andrew was at her side. They had danced most of the night.<p>

Andrew had brought Eliza to the top of the highest tower, the place where he'd been taught not only astronomy, but the anatomy of a battlefield. His tutors had told him that if he could imagine what a battle looked like from above, it would be easier to see where his forces and his enemy's were weak. Maps were all very well, they had taught, but being able to picture the battle from above as it unfolded was better. This tower was where Andrew had learned some of the most valuable lessons of his life.

Tristan had given him the ring. It had originally been made for Ayala. It bore six small diamonds shaped and set as petals around a small, round fire topaz. But being a Golden Hind, Ayala had refused to wear what she called "dead gems and lifeless metals," so Tristan had a magician make a ring out of a living flower, which would thrive off the moisture in her skin. Ayala had loved that second ring.

The first ring was the one Andrew now clutched in his hand. The seamstress had taken one look at Eliza's hands and knew which finger it would fit best. The ring had been made for Ayala's right forefinger, but Eliza's hands were bigger, so the best fit would be Eliza's left ring finger.

"It's beautiful up here," Eliza said softly. Andrew could tell she was overcome by the sheer beauty of the view. The moon was full, so the land was bathed in silver.

"Eliza," Andrew started, his voice husky. When she turned to face him, he swallowed. She was so beautiful to him. Her red hair was pale in the moonlight. "I would like – what I mean, is… will you…" he stammered, before going down on one knee. He felt the need to beg for this woman's attention. "I love you. And I would be the happiest man in the world if you would have me for your husband," he said, tears welling up in his eyes as he held out his hand, the ring resting on his palm.

Eliza's eyes welled up, too. Her face was soft and open, so vulnerable, so unlike her usual self. "Oh, Andrew," she said softly. "I love you, too. I wouldn't have any other husband but you."

Andrew slipped the ring onto her finger before standing to wipe away her tears. As he did, she reached out to brush the tears off of his face. He laughed softly; after a moment, so did she. He pulled her in for a kiss, one much more passionate than any they had shared yet. He wanted so much more, but he was far too much of a gentleman to let things go that far. There would be plenty of time for that sort of thing after they were married.

* * *

><p>After putting Paige's muddy clothes in the washing machine, Mr. Gold made a phone call, but after several rings, it kicked over to Michael's voicemail. So Gold made another call; when Noah swore that he had no idea where Michael had gone, Gold believed him. He could hear the desperate worry in Noah's voice when he said that Mike wasn't answering his phone. Mr. Gold wondered where the young man could have possibly gone, and what the fight had even been about in the first place. Michael had already known that Paige was pregnant; when she had broken the news to him, she admitted that her young man had already agreed to say he was the father.<p>

He wondered what exactly Paige had said to Michael; perhaps she had lied about their…unspoken arrangement. If she had, and if the young man had somehow discovered the truth, that could explain this fight. He would have to see if he could get Paige to talk about it; with the mood she was in right now, she might just tell him anything he asked.

Once her clothes had been transferred to the dryer, Mr. Gold went back to the bathroom to check on her. When she didn't answer his knock, he opened the door, worried that something might have happened to her. He was relieved to see her sitting in the tub, hugging herself. But she didn't react when he came into the room, not even when he called her name. The washcloth was still sitting on the side of the tub, folded up and perfectly dry. She hadn't even tried to wash herself.

It was an enormous tub, walled in on three sides. Along one of the walls that met the open side, there was a beautiful handrail that seemed to be made of wrought iron, at just the right height where Gold could grasp it for support so he could get in and out of the tub more easily. In both back corners, where the walls came together, the tub's corners were rounded, leaving two almost triangular sections along the side of the tub. Gold had lit dozens of small candles on these corners; he always found candlelight soothing, and he hoped Paige would as well.

Checking the temperature of the water, Mr. Gold pulled the stopper and let some of the water out. Then he turned the tap on as hot as it would go, pouring in a little more of the bubble bath, and removed the silky pajamas he had changed into, as well as his boxers. He leaned over to mix the water with his hand, trying to get an even temperature throughout. Though the water was not as hot as it had been when he first ran the bath, it was close. He stepped into the water and sank down next to Paige.

First he cupped his hands to pour the warm water over Paige's hair, then washed it with the expensive shampoo he used. Once her hair was clean and rinsed, he took the washcloth and gently washed her face and her body. He was tender yet business-like; his hands didn't linger. He simply bathed her as if she were an invalid. When he had finished, he sat back against the side of the tub and pulled Paige's back against his chest, spooning her. For several moments he sat there with his arms wrapped around her.

Then he began to stroke his hands along her body, gently kneading her breasts. She didn't seem to notice at first, but when he lowered one hand between her legs to touch the sweet spot, she tried to pull away. He removed his hand so that he could hold her still, though she kept struggling.

"Just sit still, now, Paige. Tonight is for your pleasure, not mine."

She stopped resisting, but sat still and stiff in his arms. She didn't try to get away as he eased his grip, so he trailed his hand back down between her legs. As he stroked her sensitive spot, she began to slowly relax into his arms. Her breathing grew ragged, and it wasn't long before her back began to arch as she started to really enjoy his touch.

Paige suddenly thought of Gold's mouth, and how skilled he was with it. As good as his fingers felt, his mouth would be even better. She was embarrassed to realize that she actually craved the feel of Mr. Gold's tongue. Her cheeks felt hot, and she knew she was blushing. She only hoped that Mr. Gold couldn't see it, given that he was behind her.

But although he couldn't really see her face, he knew Paige, and being extremely empathetic, he could sense that she wanted something more. But even though he was being kind to her tonight, it simply went against his nature to just give her what she wanted. He lowered his hand even further, gently working two fingers inside of her, which made her gasp as her head fell back on his shoulder.

"If there's anything I can do for you, Paige," he said softly in her ear, "anything at all, don't hesitate to ask." The words themselves seemed innocent enough, but his tone was full of insinuations.

Paige grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her, pushing herself to the other side of the tub, where she hunched into the water. She pulled her legs in as close as possible, not wanting to accidentally brush his leg with hers, but the tub wasn't quite big enough for her to get that far away from him. She was trying to glare at him, but he could see the stern expression warring with her desire.

"What's the matter, Paige," he asked, keeping his face neutral.

**Just leave me alone, just for once!**

"You were moving your hips more than I was moving my hand, dove," he said, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "That doesn't seem like you wanted me to leave you alone."

**Shut up! **Paige's eyes began to fill with tears. She had always hated that crying was her body's first reaction to most emotions, including anger.

"Whatever is the matter, Paige? Are you ashamed of what you want?"

**You know I am,** Paige signed. She wished she could take it back as soon as her hands had finished; she didn't want to ever admit that to him.

"There's no shame in craving pleasure," Gold said, no longer able to fight his smirk. "It's perfectly natural to enjoy sexual activities." When Paige tried to hug herself even tighter, he couldn't help but add, "Don't you want me to touch you?"

Paige stared at him for a long moment before she answered. **It feels like every inch of my skin is aching for it. **Once again, she was surprised by what she was admitting to him.

"Then let me. Let me give you the pleasure you crave." Despite what he was saying, Gold made no move toward Paige. He intended to make her work for this. When Paige shook her head no, he asked, "Why are you so ashamed of your desires?"

**I don't love you. I was raised to only…do those things…with the man I loved. But…he doesn't even want me. **Tears ran down her face. This time she didn't even seem to realize that she'd said more than she ever meant to say in front of Mr. Gold.

Tucking this little piece of information away for later, Gold said, "Love is nice, but it's hardly necessary for the sake of pleasure. Lust is nothing to be ashamed of."

**Why are you trying so hard to make me feel better about it? Yes, I'm ashamed of the way my body betrays me. I can't stand how you can bring me to orgasm every single time, no matter how hard I fight it. I am so ashamed of myself. But isn't that exactly how you like me?**

"Whatever do you mean, Paige," Gold asked, intrigued. He had never expected her to pick up on that, especially since she refused to look at him while he had his way with her.

**Why else would you say those things you say just when you know I can't fight it any longer? **Paige felt at odds; part of her just wanted him to get out and leave her alone, but another part of her wanted the release he was offering.

A long moment passed while Gold digested the things he'd heard from Paige tonight. Then, moving to the open side of the tub, he reached up with one hand to grasp the bar. "I'll leave you alone with your thoughts, then, Paige," he said. He had said that tonight was for pleasure, and he'd meant it. Even if it pleased her for him to leave her alone.

But Paige suddenly realized that while he had been touching her, she'd had no room for memories of the fight, so she grabbed his other wrist as he levered himself up. Still holding the bar, Gold twisted to look at her.

As soon as she saw that he had stopped leaving, Paige took her hand back to sign, **Please don't go. I... I don't want be alone right now.**

Mr. Gold turned and lowered himself back into the water. "What would you have me do?"

Paige, her face flushing again, turned away from him. She saw one of the corner spots, covered in candles, and thought to herself that she could sit there while he knelt in the tub. She turned back, her face red at what she intended to say. **I want… I want you to use your mouth on me,** she signed. At Gold's leering smirk, Paige felt her face grow even hotter, so she turned her back on him again. She started putting the candles out, trying to collect them in her hands.

Suddenly, Mr. Gold was there taking a handful of candles from her. He slid over to put them on the floor outside the tub, then turned to take the rest of them from Paige. He was pretty sure he knew what she had in mind, so he wasn't particularly surprised when Paige seated herself on the corner. He loved the look on her face as she stared down at him, watching him settle himself in front of her. She was more ashamed than she had ever been; after all, she had _asked_ for this! But she was also turned on.

He kept his eyes on hers as he placed one hand on each of her knees, slowly spreading her legs apart. She licked her lips nervously. But he couldn't help himself; he had to look down as her most intimate parts were revealed. He could smell her arousal, and it awoke some very primal feelings in him. When he looked up at her again, she took a deep breath at his expression. But as he lowered his mouth, her breathing quickened before he even touched her. She sighed as he began to explore her with his tongue.

If he wasn't going to get his pleasure tonight, he decided, she was going to have to beg for hers. He kept working her to the very edge of orgasm, but then he would ease up, bringing her back down again. He did this several times before Paige tried to use her own fingers to help him along. He pulled them away, saying, "Ah, ah, ah. I won't have any of that now, Paige."

Desperate, Paige signed, **Please make me come. Please!** When he simply flashed her a smirk before going back to what he had been doing, Paige used both of her hands to take hold of Mr. Gold's right hand, which had been resting on her inner thigh. He pulled his head back, wanting to see what she intended. Her hands were shaking as she folded back all but his first two fingers, then guided them to her opening. She pushed them in; her back arched almost to the point of making her lose her somewhat precarious seat on the corner of the tub. When she let go, Gold didn't try to move his hand or even put his mouth back on her. **I'm begging you, Mr. Gold. Please! **Her expression was both desperate and shamed, and he loved it.

"As you wish, dove," he leered. His tongue flicked across her sensitive nub as his fingers sought out her G-spot. He found it quickly, and it only took moments for Paige's body to convulse as she orgasmed. Her fingers scrabbled at the walls, trying to grasp something, anything, but finding nothing. As her back arched for the final time, she slid off the corner of the tub onto Mr. Gold's knees. He was so hard after all this; it would be a simple matter to take her by the hips and guide her body to where he could sate his own desires. But his muscles clenched as he reminded himself that he had said that tonight would be for Paige's pleasure.

With iron will-power, Gold moved to the side of the tub and reached up to the bar. When he stepped out of the tub, he used the thicker of the two towels he had laid out for Paige, who could not help but notice his erection. She stared at it, almost wanting more from Gold tonight, but right now she was still riding the afterglow of the pleasure she had just received, and after begging him like she had, she wasn't sure she could make herself ask for anything else even if she wanted it that badly.

"I'll get you another towel," he said, his voice husky with his own need. He would do what was necessary for tonight; tomorrow she would have to pay for this kindness. And pay she would.

* * *

><p>Before Paige emerged from the bathroom, the power cut out. Gold had just finished taking care of his own needs; it almost seemed that he had caused the outage. Looking out a window, he thought that the whole block was probably out, but he could see no downed lines or anything.<p>

After calling the power company, Mr. Gold lit a fire in the master bedroom's fireplace. When Paige found him at it, he said, "You're sleeping in here tonight. The power won't be back on until at least morning, they say, and it gets cold in here when there's no power." When Paige started to protest, he added, "I give you my word that I will keep to my side of the bed tonight." With a wicked grin, he added, "Unless you ask me over to your side." He carefully didn't mention the fact that when they woke up, it would no longer be 'tonight.' Paige was usually very adept at spotting his little omissions, but tonight she was hardly herself.

**Alright,** she signed.

After the bedroom was quite toasty, Gold banked the coals carefully. He didn't want to leave the fire burning while they slept, but they would probably want another when they woke up.

Paige had already claimed one side of the bed; without protest, Gold took the other. He smirked as she adjusted the covers, making sure that every possible inch of her body was covered. Aside from the nearly-sheer robe, he didn't have any clothes at his house that would fit her, so she wore only her panties and the thin, spaghetti-strap tank top she'd been wearing under a burn-out tee. It was a good thing the dryer had finished running before the power went out.

As they lay in the dark, he could hear Paige's nearly-silent crying. He lit a candle and moved a little closer to her, lying on his side. "What's the matter, Paige? What did you and Michael fight about?"

She rolled onto her side, facing him, so she could sign, **I lied to him, and he figured it out.**

"What did you lie about?" His face gave away nothing. Was it possible that she had broken their agreement? But he should have felt it if she had.

**I told him…that we just… that it only happened once between us.**

"Ah. So he realized that it's been so much more than once." Gold's expression was still mostly neutral, but there was a gleam in his eyes that spoke of ownership. "Did he accuse you of anything…promiscuous?"

**No,** she signed, **there would be no reason to. We don't… **Paige stopped, not wanting to continue that particular sentence. **He just doesn't understand how I could let you touch me.**

"What did you tell him?"

**That I'm a grown woman and it's my business what I do and who I do it with. And that he has no right to dictate my choices.**

Gold thought she seemed to be saying that she and young Michael weren't dating after all. It was interesting; even though Paige was clearly falling hard for Michael, they had never quite given off the "couple" vibe. Gold had always assumed that they were a couple in this world simply because of Paige's obvious feelings, and the fact that he seldom saw one without the other unless they were at work.

**I said such awful things to him,** she signed, crying harder.

"I imagine he said some terrible things to you, as well," Mr. Gold remarked.

**Yes. We both said such horrible things. I love him, but I hurt him so bad.**

Holding open his arms as best he could while lying on his side, Gold said, "Come here, dove." He half-expected Paige to back away, to remind him that he had promised to leave her alone, but instead she scooted over and snuggled into his arms, wrapping her uppermost arm around his ribs, clinging to him as she wept into his chest. "It seems like we always say the most hurtful things to the ones we least wish to hurt," he said, thinking of the awful things he had said to… _her._ Not to mention the things she had said to him. To think that the last conversation they would ever have was that fight…

Gold was glad Paige could not see his face right now. He held Paige close; he knew exactly how she felt. He had chosen his power over his love for Belle, and Paige, although she may not realize it in this world, had chosen her duty to her brothers over young Michael.

The fact that she had already found her true love was one of the deciding factors when he chose Eliza for his purposes. Her determination was exactly what he needed, but also, she was safe; she wouldn't fall for him just as he wouldn't fall for her. There was no danger of love between them, just the lust that began at the masquerade. He had seen her with Prince Andrew later that evening. He watched them fall in love, though they hadn't realized it at the time. He had come to truly respect this young woman, though. She was made of sterner stuff than most people. Just as Belle had been... His own expression haunted by his memories, he stroked Paige's still-damp hair as she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "7:15AM."

Yes, so far I am still going completely cannon with my story. I know some people don't like the relationship between Rumpelstiltskin and Belle, but I happen to think it's sweet. Besides, aside from the fact that she has no romantic feelings for Rumpelstiltskin/Mr. Gold, Eliza/Paige has already found her true love. Whether or not she can make it work out is a whole different matter, of course…

Please review!


	11. S1 Ch11 - Memory

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters.

Enjoy, and please review!

* * *

><p>The Huntsman's travels had brought him far, but it had been time to move on. He wanted to see as much of the forest as possible. But for the first time, he was leaving behind a friend – one of the few humans worthy of his friendship. Prince Andrew had surprised him, and even the wolf had accepted Andrew. That was rare.<p>

Suddenly, the Huntsman's head came up. He smelled something strange, something… twisted. Something that had once been human, but had forsaken its humanity.

"Rumpelstiltskin," he said, turning to find the impish creature behind him.

"I always wondered if I could sneak up on the man raised by wolves," Rumpelstiltskin mused. "Apparently not." He giggled.

"There is nothing I want," said the Huntsman.

"Oh, really? Do you not want your new friend to be happy? To have a good life?" Rumpelstiltskin's smirk was particularly devious.

"What has Andrew to do with anything?" The Huntsman felt his hackles rise. Something wasn't right here, he was being manipulated. But even so, if his new friend's happiness hung in the balance, he could at least hear what this unnatural creature had to say.

"His betrothed is about to be put under a terrible spell, unless you can keep her in the forest just a bit longer," the imp said, drumming his steepled fingers against each other.

"And what is your price for this information?" The Huntsman was wary; Rumpelstiltskin was infamous for charging…uncomfortable prices.

"Here's the thing," Rumpelstiltskin said. "In this particular case, if I tell you where to find the girl, the only price will be that you distract her as long as possible. Keep her from this spell. Or any other…untoward fate that might follow her discovery of this malicious intent."

"Why?" The wolf returned from a quick hunting foray and began to pace nervously, glaring at Rumpelstiltskin.

"I have…uses for her." Rumpelstiltskin's smile was oily. "If she's under this spell, all will be for naught."

"So you need her," said the Huntsman. "I would ask for what purpose, but you'll not tell me. But I have to wonder, if _you_ have some use for her, might she not be better off under whatever spell she's being threatened with?"

Pretending to be shocked by the other man's rudeness, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Who, me? Worse than being turned into a large bird for the rest of her life? How uncouth of you to suggest it!"

"Well, why wouldn't your sinister purposes be worse?" The wolf was more on edge than the Huntsman would expect, even taking into account the foul creature that stood before them, which made the Huntsman wonder what was really going on here.

Making a face, Rumpelstiltskin replied, "Because although she'll have to pay a steep price for it, she will be the only one who can break this same spell for her brothers." Of course, that was only because Rumpelstiltskin was taking steps to ensure that only she could break the spell, but that was unimportant. "But not if she suffers the spell as well."

Still feeling like there was more going on here than he could comprehend, the Huntsman asked, "So you want me to save her so she can, in turn, save her brothers?"

"More or less," replied Rumpelstiltskin, grinning wickedly.

"What exactly would I be required to do?" The Huntsman was surprised to find that he was seriously considering this vile little man's proposal.

"I'll tell you where to find the princess, dearie, and all you have to do is talk to her. Keep her in the forest if you can, and if you can't, follow her. Save her from any foolish attempts on her part to exact revenge on the caster of this spell. Convince her to stop and think, to find another way to bring this person to justice." Smirking maliciously, Rumpelstiltskin added, "And I would recommend staying out of the witch's way yourself, if you want to keep your own skin intact." When the Huntsman didn't respond, Rumpelstiltskin reminded him, "This girl you'd be saving is betrothed to your new friend, that little princeling you met in the forest. I can't imagine how devastated he would be to find that, before the ink has even dried upon their betrothal agreement, his beloved has been turned into a bird. But, ah, well. If you won't help, I suppose you won't help."

"Why can't you do something?" asked the Huntsman as Rumpelstiltskin turned to walk away.

"Me?" Rumpelstiltskin turned back, surprised and a bit amused that this backwoods rube would even suggest such a thing. "Well, don't you think that would send the poor dear running back home as fast as she could go?" He laughed.

The impish little man was right; anyone with any sense would run in the opposite direction if faced with Rumpelstiltskin. The Huntsman himself had always sworn _he_ would stay away from the imp, but this would help his new friend. He didn't particularly want to talk to some princess, who was more likely to be all gracious and formal, wanting to discuss embroidery and such genteel pursuits. But the price he asked was not so terrible, and if Andrew loved her… Looking Rumpelstiltskin in the eye, the Huntsman said, "Very well. I'll do it."

* * *

><p>When Mr. Gold woke up a little before five the next morning, the power was still out. Paige had rolled away from him in her sleep, and was sprawled on her back on her side of the bed. Gold climbed out of bed and got the fire going again. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he returned to find that Paige had rolled back onto her side, one arm flung across his side of the bed as if she'd been subconsciously reaching for him. After lighting several candles, he got back into bed, deciding on a whim to try an experiment.<p>

He maneuvered himself under her arm, not stopping until their bodies were pressed together. Still asleep, Paige snuggled against him, even going so far as to drape her leg over his. Gold smirked. He'd barely started, and already this experiment was producing results. He put his hand on the leg that was wrapped around him, trailing the tips of his fingers up the back of Paige's thigh. When he reached her panties, he slid his hand under them to touch her. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake.

He stroked around her opening before sliding his fingers up to her sensitive spot. When he moved his fingers lower again, he found that her body was already reacting. She was getting wet. He slid one finger inside of her, drawing more of the wetness out. She stirred again without quite waking, her hips making a slight thrust against him.

Shifting his head back, Mr. Gold watched Paige's face as she slowly woke to his touch. In that first moment when she opened her eyes, all he saw there was the lust he knew she felt for him. But as she realized what was going on, shame and indignation took its place.

Paige tried to push away, prompting Gold to say, "Now, now, Paige. Last night was for your pleasure, but it's not last night anymore, is it? Now it's my pleasure we're concerned with."

Realizing that there was no getting out of this, Paige stopped struggling. She watched, almost horrified, as he put his wet finger into his mouth, tasting her essence. But as shocked as she was, Gold could see that part of her was turned on by it. He cupped her face in his hand, tracing her mouth with his thumb. "Now, I'm going to let you choose, Paige." His smile was dark and almost evil. "You can reciprocate what I did for you last night," he started, pushing his thumb between her lips. But before he could finish, she pulled her head away from his hand. "Very well." Pushing against her shoulder, he said, "On your back, then, dove."

Instead of removing the strappy tank top she wore, he pulled it down so the lace around the low neckline rested on the upper part of her stomach, exposing her breasts. With Paige now lying on her back, Gold knelt between her legs, so close that her legs were bent up over his as he pressed himself against her. She had put her hands up to cover her breasts, so Mr. Gold took her wrists and pinned them to the bed. He leaned forward, putting his weight on her wrists. He enjoyed holding her down like this, but he knew he couldn't do it for long without bruising her. Normally, he wouldn't mind leaving marks, but here in Storybrooke, if someone saw bruises, they might start investigating his treatment of Paige. While he was confident that Paige would lie for him, he didn't particularly want to invite such scrutiny.

He kissed Paige, but she didn't respond at all. He put one hand on the bed and shifted all his weight to it so he could grasp her neck with his other hand. He squeezed, once again knowing that this would lead to bruises if he wasn't careful. "You know better than that, Paige," he hissed, referring to her complete lack of reaction to his kiss. "Don't make me have this conversation with you again. Understood?"

When Paige nodded, her eyes wide, he let go of her neck. Putting his hand on the bed to steady himself, he leaned in for another kiss. She made a half-hearted effort to respond, which irritated him, but it was better than nothing. And after last night, he was hoping that she was starting to accept her situation and would begin allowing herself to enjoy it.

Moving to her breasts, Gold licked one nipple, pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger and rolling it between them. Paige gave a pained hiss of breath and grabbed his hand. But before he could get angry with her for stopping him, Mr. Gold noticed the real pain in Paige's eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked, a little uncertainly. "You usually like your breasts handled pretty roughly."

**What's the matter is that I'm eight and a half weeks pregnant. My breasts are getting swollen and tender, and that doesn't feel good any more.** Paige blushed as she realized that she had just admitted that it had ever felt good.

"Ah," said Mr. Gold, smirking slightly at Paige's embarrassment. "Until further notice, I'll be gentler with them. And if it still hurts, let me know and I'll stop." When Paige nodded, he cupped one breast, kneading it very softly, and licked the opposite nipple again, pulling it into his mouth and sucking far more gently than he normally would. Paige tensed slightly; this did hurt a little bit, but it also felt kind of good at the same time. She just hoped he didn't keep it up for too long, though, because she could tell that this slight pleasure would quickly fade.

Sensing her discomfort, Gold switched. He would have liked to spend more time on this, but since it was causing her pain, he sat up after only a few more moments, pressing himself against her as he unbuttoned and removed his pajama shirt. Then he backed away to pull off both his pajama pants and his boxers in one smooth movement. Holding the pants up so she could see, he said, "You're so wet you got it all over my pajamas, Paige." He knew she would be embarrassed by that, and she didn't disappoint. Her face went bright red. It normally took a lot more foreplay to get her this aroused. Apparently it worked wonders to start stoking her fires before she was awake to try to resist.

He slid her panties down over her hips, raising her legs up in the air so he could get the undergarment completely off. He caressed the sweet spot for a moment and realized that she was almost there already. In fact, all it took to push her over the edge was him entering her. "Oh, Paige," he sighed, enjoying the feel of her muscles squeezing him. Once her orgasm had subsided, he leaned forward so his face was above hers and began to thrust into her, finding his rhythm.

As they both began to build to a climax, Mr. Gold said, "I want to feel your arms around me, Paige." She opened her eyes to glance up at him, shaking her head no. With a more savage thrust that made her eyes flutter back in her head, Gold said, "That wasn't a request, Paige." She turned her face away from him and closed her eyes again. Just as he started considering what he should do to punish her, he felt her hands trace their way hesitantly up his sides, curving around until her fingers were digging into the skin over his shoulder blades. He could feel her nails. "Ah, yes, Paige, that's nice," he moaned, partly just to embarrass her.

He started moving his hips faster; they were both getting close now. Moaning her name softly into her ear, Gold enjoyed the feel of her fingers digging deeper into his flesh. It was one of those feelings that teetered on the shining edge between pleasure and pain, and Paige had never done anything that made him feel this way before.

When Paige's back arched as they came at almost the same moment, her fingers raked down his back. "Oh God, yes!" Gold cried. When the moment passed, he collapsed on top of Paige and, exhausted, they both drifted back to sleep.

* * *

><p>When Paige woke up about an hour later, Mr. Gold was still on top of her, still inside her. Not caring that it would wake him, she began pushing at him and writhing out from under him. When he did wake, he simply slid over to lay on his side, watching Paige scramble to pull her tank top up where it belonged, covering her breasts. She couldn't find her panties, or any of her other clothes, so when she found the nearly-sheer robe, she grabbed it, clutching it to herself rather than trying to put it on.<p>

She looked at Gold, who was still on his side, completely unconcerned that he was nude. Her cheeks flushed as she couldn't help but glance down between his legs. She jerked her eyes back up to his face, but refused to meet his eyes.

"I never figured you for the type to claw a man's back in the heat of passion, dove," he said, smirking suggestively.

**I wouldn't! I've never… I don't remember doing anything like that. **Paige actually thought she might remember doing it, but she didn't want to admit it, even to herself.

"See for yourself, dove," he offered, but only leaned forward slightly.

Paige approached the bed like she might a den of vipers. But she couldn't see from the edge of the bed. It never occurred to her to go around it; instead she put the robe aside to climb back onto the mussed bed. She crawled hesitantly toward him until she could lean over him to look at his back. There were, indeed, ten scratches down his shoulders. None of them was bleeding freely, but most of them had filled with blood. Backing away as if he'd goosed her, Paige nearly fell as she slid off the bed. When she had regained her balance and snatched up the robe to cover herself again, she signed, **I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!**

With a wicked grin, Gold replied, "Don't be. Not only is it the mark of a job well done on my part, but I enjoyed it."

Not knowing what to say to that, Paige fled to the bathroom to clean herself up.

* * *

><p>Eliza strode along, enjoying the spring breeze as she made her way to her favorite spot in the woods. She was wearing a simple green dress, sleeveless and belted at the waist, with a very full skirt. She had brought lunch in a small hamper, along with a shawl in case the breeze cooled too much.<p>

When she reached the clearing, she smiled. She loved this spot all the more for the time she'd spent here with Andrew. Holding up her left hand, she admired the ring he had given her. Even now, Sir Ryan was on his way to Tristan's kingdom to see to it that the betrothal agreement was signed. Perhaps he was already there; perhaps Tristan was signing right now. She wondered when she would see her betrothed again.

Her betrothed. Just thinking of it made her smile blissfully. She spread a blanket in her usual spot, remembering that she and Andrew had shared their first kiss here. She wished he were with her now, but he had to make sure that his duties to his own kingdom were passed to a worthy successor before he could leave.

Idly, she wondered where he would live. Unless her father had uncovered that horrible swamp-woman's plot before Andrew came to live here, he couldn't stay in the palace, and social niceties would discourage the possibility of him living at the manor with her. When he had visited before, he had brought some of his retainers with him, and her father had sent the governess along as well, not only to watch the boys, but to serve as Eliza's chaperone.

Sighing happily, she opened her violin case and began to tune the instrument. Ever since that wintry picnic lunch, she only wanted to play the songs she had played for Andrew. But today, she was determined to learn something new, and had brought along some sheet music and a stand with clasps so the papers wouldn't blow away. After all, she couldn't keep playing the same songs over and over. She didn't want Andrew to think that was all she could do.

Once the violin was properly tuned, and the bow rosined, she set herself to start practicing the new piece.

* * *

><p>Paige stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had locked herself in Mr. Gold's master bathroom; fortunately, he must have lit some candles in here before he… woke her. She blushed just thinking about it. Her face was pale, and she wasn't sure she wanted to meet her own gaze. Looking down at her fingernails, Gold's words echoed in her head. "I enjoyed it," she kept hearing, over and over. She kept pushing down the little voice in her mind that kept trying to tell her that she had enjoyed it, too.<p>

Trying desperately to turn her thoughts away from that treasonous little voice, Paige started replaying some of yesterday's events. The fight with Mike was far too painful, so she pushed those memories aside firmly. She found herself wishing that she had never texted Archie, never asked him if she could talk to him. She hated that she had lied, yet again, about Mr. Gold. But when she couldn't talk about how hurt she was, and how badly she had hurt Mike, she felt she had to tell him something.

Suddenly, Paige's mouth fell open. She felt like such an idiot! She never even had to mention Gold in Archie's office! At the time, she had been so focused on all the lies she had been telling about her guardian, and about her embarrassing realization that she at least partly enjoyed his attentions, that it never occurred to her to leave him out of it. All she would have needed to do was tell Archie that she was pregnant and that she and Mike had fought about that! It would have been a believable reason for them to fight, and she never would have had to bring Gold into it at all.

She bent forward until her forehead rested against the cool countertop. About that time, she heard a sudden hum as the lights came back on. Caught by surprise, Paige jerked upright, catching sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid.

She jerked again as a knock came at the door. "Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes or so, if you're hungry, Paige," came Gold's voice through the door. There was something the way he phrased it, or perhaps just in the tone of his voice, that made Paige blush furiously at the word 'hungry.' She heard him move away from the door.

Once she felt sure he was safely downstairs, she unlocked the door to creep out into the bedroom. When she saw her clothes, folded neatly on the dresser near the bathroom door, she put them in the bathroom before venturing out again in search of her panties. She found them on the far side of the bed, but they would need to be washed before she could wear them again. She sighed heavily. She so did not want to go down there without any panties on, no matter that she would have her jeans.

When she got back to the bathroom, the hairdryer caught her eye. She could use it to dry her panties if she washed them here at the sink. If she didn't show up downstairs before breakfast was ready, Gold would probably come back up to check on her once he was done, so Paige turned on the water. She would need to hurry.

* * *

><p>When Mr. Gold turned his car into the driveway at the duplex, Paige felt a lump in her throat. Mike's car was still gone. She prayed he hadn't tried to leave town; that had never ended well for anyone. She jumped when Mr. Gold said, "It doesn't look like he's here."<p>

He called Noah, who still hadn't heard from Michael. Gold saw that Paige was trying hard not show how upset she was, but he had some idea what she was going through. He could never forget that mix between dread and hope when Regina had told him that Belle's father had turned his back on her. He wondered if Paige would end up with the same bad news that he had received. But whether Michael still lived or not, he was not here, which meant that Paige couldn't stay here alone for the time being.

"Well, until we get word from young Michael," Gold said, "you're going to have to decide: are you staying with me, or shall I stay with you?"

Paige stared at him like he had two heads. It took a few moments for his words to make sense to her. **Oh, **she signed once she realized what he meant. **I, um… I'll stay with you, I guess. **Just like last night, she didn't want to bring Mr. Gold into her house, where she had fought with Mike. She felt like that would be compounding her misery. **Just let me go inside and grab some things I'll need.**

"I'll come in with you," Gold offered.

**Oh, that's not necessary, **Paige signed, but it was too late. Gold had already gotten out of the car and didn't see her response.

When Paige unlocked the door, she almost couldn't make herself go inside. When she did, the first thing she saw was the pillow she'd thrown when Mike wouldn't look at her while he tried to lecture her. She picked it up, hugging it to herself as she stared around the room.

"Are you alright, Paige?" asked Mr. Gold, taking the pillow from her and placing it on the couch.

Nodding, Paige signed, **I'll go pack a bag. I'll be back in just a minute.**

* * *

><p>She had packed everything she would need from the bathroom, and had a few piles of clothes on her bed. She wasn't sure how long she should be prepared to stay with Mr. Gold, so she made sure to pack several changes of underclothes. She packed two pairs of dress pants and three shirts; she worked the next three days in a row. After adding a few mix-and-match things and a pair of pajamas, she actually had two bags: the one she'd started with and another, smaller one she grabbed when not everything would fit in the first bag.<p>

Standing in front of her mirrored dresser, she held up her right hand, where she wore a ring with six small diamonds shaped and set as petals around a small, round fire topaz. It fit better on her left ring finger, where her prince had placed it when he asked her to marry him, but in the world that was, there was no set finger for an engagement ring. A ring, if there even was a ring, was often a family heirloom, and as such would be worn on whichever finger it happened to fit. But in this place, she was Paige, and Paige was not engaged. People here might think it strange if she wore the ring on her left ring finger.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she stared at the beautiful ring. She took it off, having to tug at it slightly before it slid down her finger. After glancing at the bedroom door to make sure Mr. Gold wasn't standing there, she slipped the ring onto the finger where it belonged. She gave a nearly silent sob to see it on that finger again. Then she took it off and set it down on top of the jewelry box that had once been her mother's, grabbing her bags and heading downstairs without looking back.

* * *

><p>Along the roadside, just before the stone sign that was meant to welcome visitors to Storybrooke, a leaning tree finally gave way to gravity. It fell nearly parallel to the road, with only a few of its branches out in the roadway. It almost obscured the tire tracks in the grass along the side of the road where an outbound car had lost control and crossed the inbound lane, careening into the woods…<p>

* * *

><p>Just as Eliza was unpacking her lunch, she heard a slight sound in the woods. It could have been an animal, but she had only put down her violin moments before; it wasn't very likely that any ordinary animal would have approached the clearing this soon. Her bow and quiver were lying on the blanket next to the hamper. She placed an arrow, but didn't draw the bowstring just yet; she was listening for another sound. The first had been behind her.<p>

The next rustle sounded like it was coming around her right side. Eliza whirled, still on her knees as she drew the string and prepared to shoot. Her heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she was afraid she would miss any further sounds.

"Please don't shoot," came a man's voice from the forest.

"Who are you and why are you here?" Eliza knew that this whole area had been enchanted with the kinds of spells that simply discouraged most people from deciding to walk in the direction of the manor. They were subtle spells; unless they were looking for passive spells, even most magic users wouldn't realize the spells were there. So how had he found this place?

"May I move to where you can see me?"

Even though it made her nervous to let him move, she would like to see who had found her clearing. "Slowly. And I expect your hands out where I can see them, with no weapons in them or I will shoot." She could hear his slow footsteps, and something else besides. "Wait! Who's with you?"

"What do you mean," the voice asked as the footsteps ceased.

"I can hear something else moving out there," Eliza replied. "Moving with you. Not human, though. Something four-legged, maybe a little bigger than a hunting hound?"

The voice sounded impressed. "It's my friend, a wolf."

Startled, Eliza almost dropped her bow. "Alright," she said, a bit unsteadily. "Keep coming."

When the strange man stepped into the clearing, Eliza could tell he was used to the woods. He had the look of a man who lived most of his life outside. "I'm sorry if I startled you," he apologized. If she hadn't already fallen in love with Andrew, she might have been smitten by this woodsman. He was very good-looking, with a lilting accent to his speech that was quite captivating.

"How did you find this place?" she asked warily. Perhaps he was _too_ good-looking. Perhaps he had been sent by someone who wished her or her kingdom harm.

"A, um, acquaintance, told me how to find you." He winced, not wanting to admit that he had made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin.

"What acquaintance," Eliza asked suspiciously. Her bow wasn't quite pointed at the man any longer, and she had eased up on the bowstring, but her arms and shoulders were still tense, still prepared to shoot if need be.

"You're Eliza, right?" the stranger asked.

"Why should that be my name?" Only the slightest hesitation gave her away. The Huntsman realized that she was good; most people would never have caught it.

He smiled as he began to realize that Andrew was in love with this young woman for a very good reason. If he were ever to look for a wife, he hoped he could find a woman like Eliza. "You're betrothed to my friend Andrew," he replied. "I just didn't realize that you weren't the, ah… _typical_ princess."

"You've got a lot to learn about my kingdom if you think our women are required to be all soft and dainty whether they like it or not," Eliza retorted. About that time, the wolf crept out of the woods. Eliza's breath caught; one eye was red, the other black. It gave the creature an otherworldly appearance. "I've never seen a wolf with eyes like that," she whispered.

The Huntsman tensed; she still held her bow at the ready. He had no idea how good of a shot she was, but from the way she handled the weapon, she was clearly no stranger to using it. But before he could say anything, she lowered the bow.

"You're beautiful," she said softly to the wolf. Tearing her gaze away from the haunting eyes, she put the arrow back into the quiver and laid down her bow. She colored slightly when she saw her boots lying on the grass by the blanket. When she had taken them off earlier, she had simply tossed them toward the blanket's edge; one of them was on its side. But instead of apologizing for being herself, Eliza turned and met the strange man's eyes, almost defiantly. "Why are you here?"

* * *

><p>Paige had not left Mike's side since she got the news. His car had not been found until just before 4 pm yesterday, Wednesday, by a man from the road crew checking the roads for any damage after last weekend's downpour. It had been Sunday afternoon when Mike had stormed out of Paige's living room. Doctor Whale had assured Paige that Mike would make a full recovery, but she had spent the three days when Mike was missing in a panicked state, barely able to function while working in the pawn shop. No matter what she had tried, though, Mr. Gold had not let Paige get out of work.<p>

She and Noah had sat all night at Mike's bedside; something the doctors usually frowned upon, but Paige had been so desperate that Doctor Whale had allowed it. When Mr. Gold stopped in on his way to a Thursday council meeting, she had been dozing, her head drooping onto the bed while her hand rested over Michael's hand. Noah had brought him up to date in whispers; Michael was rapidly improving and they expected him to wake sometime that very morning. He had been quite dehydrated, and bore several bruises and scratches, some of them rather deep, but luckily, he had been wearing his seatbelt, and there weren't any serious injuries.

* * *

><p>When the council meeting was over, and he'd had a few words with Emma after that little tragedy she'd played right into, Gold thought he would check on Paige before he opened his shop for the day. Seeing Doctor Whale in the room, he paused, watching through the glass for a moment. He didn't notice Ruby at first, who had done the same thing, but when he spoke to her, she jumped satisfyingly. "Has he woken up yet?"<p>

"Oh, crap, you scared me!" Ruby said, her eyes wide. When she saw who had spoken, she frowned slightly. "No, but I think they said something about it happening now, I don't know. Some kind of doctor-speak."

Before Gold could comment, he noticed that Michael's eyes were opening up. He could dimly hear Doctor Whale explaining that Michael had hydroplaned out of control and crashed into the woods. Before the doctor could tell Michael about his injuries, the young man, who had been looking around, spotted his brother. He spoke to Noah, saying something Gold couldn't make out but that made Noah chuckle, before turning to Paige. Michael just stared at her for a moment before slowly looking down at his hand, which she was now holding in both of hers. Unshed tears of relief shone in her eyes.

Pulling his hand away roughly, Michael turned his back on Paige without a word. She reached out as if to take hold of his arm, but seemed to think better of it. She backed away from the bed before dashing out of the room. Gold just watched as Ruby threw herself into Paige's path and wrapped her arms around her mute friend. Paige collapsed to the ground in Ruby's embrace, sobbing nearly silently.

Mr. Gold turned his back on the whole situation. He had his shop to open up, after all. He couldn't waste time on someone else's pain, even if he knew exactly what Paige was going through right now.

* * *

><p>All day at work the next day, Paige fretted and worried almost as much as she had when Mike was still missing. He had been released from the hospital early in the afternoon, so Paige hadn't been to see him yet. She had hoped that his near-death experience would have made him a bit more forgiving, but that didn't seem to be the case. After Ruby had calmed Paige down some, she had taken her grieving friend home, where Granny had been so sympathetic that she let Ruby have Thursday off so Paige wouldn't be alone.<p>

When Paige's shift was over on Friday, she almost forgot to tell Gold she was leaving, and when he asked if she would need to stay with him again that night, she signed, **Who knows?** She was out the door before he could tell her to text him and let him know. He shook his head. It was none of his business if she wanted to throw herself at someone who seemed determined to break her heart.

* * *

><p>Noah answered Paige's knock. "Hey, Mike, look who's here," he said brightly. Mike had told him that the fight had been a pretty bad one, but he wouldn't say what it had been about. "Paige, can I get you anything to drink?" When Paige shook her head and made the sign to thank him, Noah grabbed up Mike's water. "I'll just freshen this up," he said, even though the cup was still almost full.<p>

Once Noah was in the kitchen, Mike glared at Paige. "What are you doing here?"

**I wanted…to see how you were doing,** she signed, hesitantly.

Lowering his voice so his brother wouldn't hear, Mike asked, "Are you sure you don't want to run back to Mr. Gold's bed? I understand you've spent most of the week over there." He made a disgusted noise.

**Well I hardly had a choice. The man I'd rather spend my time with ran off like a little kid because he couldn't handle the situation. **Paige felt miserable. The man she loved could have died, and instead of celebrating the fact that he hadn't, they were simply fighting again. She was afraid this might be all that was left between them now.

Mike didn't respond, because he knew she was right. He hadn't really tried to handle it at all. But he wasn't sure he was ready to admit that out loud. The silence stretched on too long.

**I'll…I'll have my things out by the end of next week,** Paige signed, crying. She headed for the door.

"Wait," Mike said, softening a bit. "Come here, Paige." When she did, he patted the arm of the chair that Noah had moved nearer to the couch, saying, "Sit down, will you, so I don't have to crane my neck!" He managed a half-smile to show that he was joking. "Paige," he started, not sure how to tell her what he wanted her to know. "I – um… I don't want you to leave."

**Really? You'll stay my secondary guardian? **He could see from her face how fragile her emotions were right now. It almost seemed cruel to let that hope blossom when he himself couldn't be sure that it was likely to happen.

"At least for now," he answered. "It's too much," he said, trying to explain. "I don't know if I _can_ handle it. But what I do know is that, no matter how much my anger tells me I should leave you on your own, I know I can't make that decision right now. I have to think, to figure out what I should do." He looked into her face, where the hope was being swallowed by nervousness. "I need time. That's all I can give you right now. I can't say everything's going to be okay, I don't know that yet. And I don't want to talk about any of it right now. Just… just give me time. Can you do that?"

Looking sad, Paige signed, **Yes, but please don't take too long. I'm already nine weeks pregnant. I'd really like to have this all resolved before… before the baby is born.** After a long pause, she asked, **So how long before you're on your feet again? I'd really like to come home.**

"Doctor Whale wants someone with me tonight and tomorrow night. After that, though, I'm on my own and cleared to go back to work. So I guess you can come back on Sunday, but I think I'd better call the council to make sure it's okay." Mike hesitantly reached out and patted Paige's arm cautiously before pulling his hand back, which made Paige blink back tears.

* * *

><p>Although she had only packed enough for herself, Eliza had shared her lunch with both the Huntsman, who had not given any other name, and the wolf. "So I hope I'm not prying, here," the Huntsman began, "but you don't seem like the type of girl to wear a dress if you can avoid it." He left the actual question unspoken.<p>

Looking down at the full skirt that belled out around her, Eliza smiled. There was just a hint of sadness in that smile. "Out here at the manor, I don't wear dresses, except when I come to the clearing to play my violin. See, in my kingdom, women are still supposed to wear dresses unless their livelihood makes it impractical. Trust me, when I'm at the palace learning to become queen, I seldom have any excuse to put on breeches. But my mother taught me to play the violin, and she loved dresses and girly things like that. She always insisted that I wear one of my nicest dresses when she gave me my lessons." The sadness became a little more pronounced. "She died when I turned sixteen," Eliza said softly. "Even though she's not here to see, I still wear a dress every time I play."

The Huntsman couldn't really relate to this tale of parental love, but he could see that, for Eliza, this was a very good reason to go against her own preferences. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it," he said softly.

"You could not have known what was in my heart," she replied. The wolf, who had been nosing around Eliza's feet, looking for crumbs in the folds of her skirt, suddenly nosed Eliza's open hand. Without thinking, she began to stroke the wolf's head, but stopped suddenly, looking at the Huntsman. "Should I?" she asked hesitantly.

Before the Huntsman could reply, the wolf pushed against Eliza's hand again. "Apparently the wolf likes both you and your betrothed," the Huntsman said, laughing.

Eliza was a little nervous about having her hands this close to the fearsome jaws, but she stroked the wolf's head anyway, soon forgetting her anxiety and scratching behind the wolf's ears.

The Huntsman laughed to see the lazy contentment on his companion's face. "You seem to know how to scratch a wolf the right way," he joked.

Smiling, Eliza replied, "I spent a lot of time with my father's hounds when I was little." The wolf started growling, clearly insulted, but so softly that only the Huntsman seemed to hear it. "Of course," she continued, "none of the hounds were quite such fearsome and beautiful creatures."

At this, the wolf stopped growling. The Huntsman was in awe; no stranger had ever insulted the wolf without getting bitten, and certainly no one had ever been forgiven! But before he could think of anything to say, Eliza finished scratching the wolf's ears and stood up.

"I really should be heading back," she said.

"But why? Can't we talk a bit longer?" the Huntsman asked.

"I can't leave Weston alone with the rest of the boys for too long," she replied. "He's only thirteen. Or actually, fourteen, now, his birthday was a few days ago."

"Well, then, do you mind if I walk you back?" When Eliza hesitated, the Huntsman added, "I'll stay in the woods, out of sight of your brothers."

"Well, alright," said Eliza. "As long as you tell me more about how you met Andrew."

* * *

><p>Mike had picked Paige up at Mr. Gold's house. Paige texted Gold that she was leaving and had locked up behind herself; the pawn shop was open for a short time on Sundays. She figured that Mike had intentionally waited to come and pick her up until he knew Gold would be gone.<p>

After he carried her bags upstairs to her bedroom, Mike said, "While you unpack, I'll go pick up something from Granny's. Unless you had lunch at… over there." He didn't want mention the name. It made him too uncomfortable.

**No, I didn't, **Paige signed. **It won't take long, we could go together and eat at Granny's. Or I could just unpack later,** she offered.

"No, I don't feel like… eating… in public." In truth, he didn't want to go out with Paige as if nothing were wrong, but he was really trying not to hurt her feelings. Besides, he had another stop that he couldn't make if Paige came along.

But Paige heard the hesitation in his voice. Hurt, she signed, **Oh, okay, well, I…guess I'll see you when you get back.** She knew it was too soon to tell for sure, but she was afraid she had been right to think that she was losing him.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold heard the bell tinkle. He pushed through the curtain that covered the door to the back room. It was rare for him to have a customer on a Sunday. But then, this wasn't exactly going to be a customer.<p>

When he saw young Michael, he said, "Why, Michael! Isn't this a surprise?" He didn't sound particularly surprised, though. "I thought you would be spending some time with Paige," he added.

"I'm picking up a late lunch for us," said Mike tensely. "I just want you to know that I know what's going on, and I want it to stop."

"Whatever do you mean, Michael?" asked Gold. He knew the young man didn't want to say it, so he intended to make him face it.

"What you're doing to Paige," Mike said, impatient.

"Am I doing something to Paige that's upsetting anyone?" Gold asked innocently.

"You're taking advantage of her!"

"And how exactly am I doing that?" Mr. Gold's smirk was devious.

Mike blushed and lowered his voice, although there was no one in the shop aside from himself and Gold. "You're forcing her to have sex with you," he hissed.

Gold's smirk deepened. "Oh, am I really? She seems to enjoy it quite a bit."

His face reddening further, Mike said, "Does she? Or do you just tell her she _has_ to say that if anyone asks?"

"Well, unless she's been faking it all along, then yes, she really does enjoy it. And she has certainly never told me she wants to stop what we're doing." Mr. Gold leaned against a counter. "And whatever she has told you about us is her own choice. I know better than to try telling a woman like her what to say or do. But perhaps you don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike was indignant.

"It means that you don't know her as well as you think you do if you believe she could be forced into doing something she doesn't want to do, and more than that, forced to lie about it." His arms folded over his chest, Gold's voice was cold. "Paige is a strong young woman, not some helpless damsel to be swept about by the whims of others."

"How dare you say I don't know her?" Mike knew Paige had a strong will, but how could she _want_ to let Gold touch her?

Before Michael could say more, Mr. Gold cut him off. "I'm not the one who's breaking her heart, and I don't particularly want to be the one to pick up the pieces. I don't know if Paige told you this part, but we don't have romantic feelings for each other. She's in love with you, Michael, and if you're as smart as you seem to be, you'll fight for that. And if you're man enough to do that, you and I can have another little chat. I'm sure we could work something out if you wanted to stop dithering and step up for her."

Mike hesitated; did Gold mean what Mike thought he meant? It sounded like he was saying that if Mike and Paige started dating, really, seriously dating, Gold would stop molesting Paige. Because no matter what anyone said, Mike couldn't believe it was consensual.

"Oh, and by the way, Michael," said Gold, "there is the little issue of your mother." Before the young man could speak, Mr. Gold continued, "I did you a favor there, which means you owe me one."

Wary, Mike asked, "And what exactly do you want?"

"Oh, nothing much," Gold replied. "Just your discretion on the subject of what's going on between Paige and myself. It should be left up to the two of us whether or not anyone needs to know about us."

"I…guess I can agree with that," Mike said. He had heard this about Gold, that the man only helped out in exchange for something. "But we're square now, right?" His gut told him to make sure that it was fully understood that nothing more was owed.

"Oh, yes. We're even now," said Gold, "once you make that little promise to me."

Almost sulkily, Mike replied, "I promise I won't tell anyone what's going on between you and Paige." He felt too embarrassed to meet Gold's eyes. It seemed as though he was almost giving permission or something. He didn't like making this promise, but something told him that he shouldn't cross Gold unless he was prepared to pay serious consequences.

"Thank you, Michael." When Mike just stared sullenly, Gold said scornfully, "Now if you don't mind, I have work to do."

* * *

><p>Eliza struggled, but the Huntsman was too strong for her. He must be working with that awful witch, he must! Why else would he hold her here so she couldn't kill the creature who had turned her brothers into swans? The six of them were all flying in circles around the clearing where the manor stood, clearly baffled by what had happened to them. She tried to stomp on his feet, quite forgetting that she had not bothered to put her boots back on for the walk home.<p>

Looking satisfied, the witch started down the path that led away from the manor. Eliza struggled harder, almost breaking free, when she noticed that the witch wore a cloak bearing her father's sigil! It must be that horrible swamp-woman! Father was right about her!

With the Huntsman's hand over her mouth, she couldn't even shout curses at the woman. When the witch disappeared, Eliza sagged in his arms. She had never felt so helpless and degraded in her life! As she started to calm down a bit, she realized that the Huntsman had been talking to her all this time. His voice was so low she could barely hear it; unlike a whisper, this sound probably couldn't have been heard more than a pace or two away. Whispers tended to have a harshness to them that could be heard from further away, although not necessarily understood.

"There's nothing you can do," he was saying. "She must have been preparing this for some time now; if you attack her, you will surely only end up as a swan yourself – or worse! There has to be another way to bring her to justice!" He very much felt like a wolf himself right now; it would be immensely satisfying to run out there and bite that witch! To take her throat in his teeth and shake until she was dead! Even in the short time he had known Eliza, she had also become a friend, and if it would help, he would kill for her. But Rumpelstiltskin had warned him, and the vile creature always seemed to know about the future.

When he saw that Eliza had calmed enough, the Huntsman let her go, eyeing her warily. She might still decide to attack him, either because she thought he was working with the enemy or simply because he had kept her from her revenge.

"I guess I should thank you for that," Eliza said tightly, "but I don't want to. That was that swamp-witch trying to seduce my father!"

"Can your father catch her unawares? So she cannot have her spells prepared?"

"I believe so," Eliza answered.

"Then that's what you should do. Wait here for your father; didn't you say he would be here tomorrow?" The Huntsman hoped he was helping, for Eliza was still agitated. She couldn't stop staring up at the six swans that kept trying to land on the roof of the manor.

"Yes, tomorrow," she said. She sounded like she was about to cry. "I have to see to my brothers now. Thank you for your help." She still didn't want to thank him, but she knew that if he hadn't stopped her, she would not be here to thank anyone. "If you see Andrew before I do, tell him… tell him I love him, but I have to take care of my brothers!"

Without waiting for a reply, she ran out into the clearing, crying out her brothers' names. When they saw her, they swooped down to circle her before flying away in search of a lake. She ran, following them, trying to keep them in sight. But they eventually passed over the small, unnamed river that lay a few miles from the manor, in nearly the opposite direction from Eliza's clearing. Eliza could not follow them further, and climbed up on a large rock near a bend in the river, reaching out toward her brothers as they continued to fly away from her. She never even noticed all the cuts and bruises on her bare feet.

* * *

><p>Paige sat up, stretching. It was a Monday morning, but unlike most Mondays, she didn't have to work today. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and originally, she and Mike had planned to spend the day together since he was supposed to have been off today and work tomorrow. But after missing all of last week, he had agreed to go in today as well as tomorrow, and besides, after their fight, she knew he wouldn't want to go on what would seem like a date with her.<p>

So she would be alone all day, which was depressing in some ways, but maybe she could get some spinning done today. She was getting better at it; the yarn wasn't quite as lumpy anymore. She had, of course, kept even the lumpiest yarn, mostly because she didn't want to waste her time or her nettle fibers. She still had quite a stash of fibers from the summer; it had been hard, hot work trying to pound them in her basement in the middle of a near-drought, but it was something that had to be done.

She also had started about two dozen potted nettle plants, but four of them hadn't survived. The rest she was carefully cultivating. Usually, no one but her ventured into her basement, but if anyone discovered the plants in her makeshift greenhouse, she would tell them all about the healthy effects of nettle leaf tea. It was supposed to be quite good for pregnant women, as well. She remembered Dr. Nerean brewing it up for her mother quite frequently, especially during the last few months of pregnancy. She had asked him about it while her mother was pregnant with the twins; he explained that it was good for easing the pain both during and after the birth, and could also be used afterwards to increase the richness and the amount of breast milk. When she had looked it up here in this world, everything she'd found had indicated that he was correct. So some of those precious nettle leaves ended up as tea instead of yarn.

It wasn't quite time for Mike to leave yet, but his car wasn't in the driveway. For a moment, Paige panicked, wondering if it had all been a dream and Mike hadn't been found yet. But then she remembered that Mike's car had been totaled. While he was waiting for the insurance company to send him a check, he had asked around and found some people willing to give him rides. As Paige watched, a car pulled up. Mike must have been waiting on the porch, because he came into sight almost right away and got in the car.

Sighing, Paige started making her bed. After breakfast, she realized that she hadn't been here for a full week. So she put off her plans to spin, at least for this morning, anyway. This place needed a good cleaning.

* * *

><p>She was just trying to decide whether she should stop for lunch or take another hour or so and finish up when she heard a car pull up the driveway. She dropped what she was doing and headed for the door. Was Mike sick? Had it been too soon for him to go back to work?<p>

But the stranger who came up on the porch was by himself. "Um, hi," he said uncertainly. "Is this there a Mike Cochran at this address?"

Unable to effectively communicate, Paige nodded in answer to his question, but then tapped her fingers to her throat and shook her head no.

"Are you okay, miss?" The stranger's confusion was evident.

Paige held up her finger in a "give me one moment" gesture and ducked back into her side of the house. She frantically rummaged through the drawers of her end tables; surely she had pen and paper in one of them? When she finally found some, she rushed back outside, where the stranger had taken a few steps toward her door, clearly wondering what was going on.

Paige tried to write neatly, but quickly. When she had finished, she handed the pad of paper to the guy standing on her porch.

After reading it, he said, "Oh, um, Paige, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were, well, mute."

Paige nodded taking the notepad back to write that Mike did, indeed, live here, but was working today. She asked if she could take his name and number so Mike could call him later.

"Yeah, sure, that would be great," the guy said, but he took the pen from Paige to write his own name and number on a new page in the notepad. As he did so, he introduced himself to Paige. "I'm Mark Edwards, I'm on the Storybrooke road crew? You know, like maintaining the roads and getting trees off electric lines, not like a rock star's road crew." He laughed, but the joke fell flat when Paige didn't quite get it. "Anyway, I'm the one who found Mike's car," he went on. "I had wanted to see him in the hospital, but I didn't find out his name in time. And I found this address in the phone book, so I was hoping I could find him here and just… you know, see how he's doing. And if he remembers me."

He had handed the notepad back to Paige when he finished writing down his name and number, so she wrote him another note.

Mark replied, "Oh, no, he wasn't conscious when I found him. But we used to be neighbors when we were kids." Sadness touched his features. "His dad… his dad saved my little sister's life." Mark didn't elaborate, but Paige knew Mike's father had been a volunteer fireman, and had died saving a little girl's life. She was pretty sure that Mark's little sister had been that girl.

Paige wrote again on the notepad. Even if Mike never forgave her, she was still grateful to this man for having saved the life of the man she couldn't imagine living without. But she didn't tell Mark just how much Mike meant to her; she simply thanked him for what he had done.

"Oh, you're welcome. I just… happened to come along, you know? I'm just glad he was okay." Mark smiled at Paige. "I should probably stop wasting your time, Paige. Thanks for taking my number for Mike. I really appreciate it." He rather awkwardly shook hands with Paige, and then left.

Paige wished Mike had been here. She was sure he would have been happy to meet the person who saved his life, especially since that person seemed to be an old friend. She put the paper with Mark's phone number on her dining table, weighting it down with a large candle from the centerpiece so it wouldn't get lost.

* * *

><p>Just when Paige was about to head to the basement to do a little spinning before Mike came back from work, her doorbell rang. She jumped, looking guiltily at the door. Taking a deep breath and trying to smooth her features, Paige unlocked her door. Her worst fears were realized when Mr. Gold stepped in. She looked at the clock, surprised to see that it was right in the middle of his usual lunch hour. For some reason, she had thought it was later than that.<p>

Before she could sign anything, Gold pushed past her, saying in a terse voice, "I need to talk to you, Paige."

At his angry expression, Paige's face went pale. What could he be so upset about?

"Your 'young man' came to see me yesterday," Gold began, watching Paige's face to see if she had known about it. But her surprise was genuine. She hadn't had anything to do with Michael's little…visit. "He seems to think that I'm not only forcing myself on you, but that I am also forcing you to lie about it." He watched Paige flounder, trying to figure out what to say.

**I… when did he do that? **Paige had a hard time imagining Mike confronting Gold about this. Mike couldn't even stand to say the other man's name.

"He said he was on his way to pick up some lunch for the two of you." Even though he knew that Paige hadn't encouraged this, he could tell that she was afraid he would think that she had, so he pressed her buttons. "What have you told him about us?"

**Just that we've… well, you know. And he seemed to think you might have hurt me, he kept asking if you were gentle with me –**

Cutting her off, Gold asked, "And what did you say to that?"

**Always. I told him you're always gentle with me. **Paige's face was beet red.

Still glaring at her, Mr. Gold asked, "And what else did you tell him?"

Paige felt like her face would catch fire any minute now. **I said… I told him… I told him how you always make sure I… enjoy myself. That you… make me feel good. **She wanted to see his expression, but she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Did you even hint to him that you wanted me to stop?" Although it never showed on his face, Gold delighted at Paige's cringing.

**No! **She did meet his eyes now, terrified that he wouldn't believe her. **I never said anything like that! I told him that I always enjoy what you do to me, and that it was none of his business who I decide to have sex with!**

There, she'd said it. She had admitted out loud, to his face, that she was enjoying herself. Gold let his expression start softening, but he still had one more thing he wanted from Paige today. "I've decided that I do not want young Michael to claim the child as his own. When you're ready to tell people you're pregnant, you will tell them the truth – that _I _am the father."

Paige shook her head. **I won't do that. This is **_**my**_** baby!**

"Only by half, Paige. I did most of the work," he said. His tone was partly angry and partly insinuating.

**No. I will not let you have my baby! **Paige was getting angry now.

Gold gave a cold little laugh. "I'm not asking you to hand over the baby. I'm simply asking to be acknowledged as the father."

**I don't believe you. Why is it that you deal in children? I don't trust you!**

"What do you mean, 'deal in children?'" Gold wondered yet again if Paige somehow remembered her true past.

**You found Henry for the Mayor. You made a deal to take that Ashley girl's baby. Now you're demanding mine! What **_**is**_** it with you and babies? **Paige had always wondered; in the world that was, Rumpelstiltskin had a reputation for asking for the firstborn child as his price. If she could keep it from him, she didn't want him to know that she remembered, but she could feel her temper rising beyond the point of control. She struggled with herself, trying to force her anger back down again.

"I am this child's father, and as such, I have rights." Gold's voice was low, threatening.

**This child was not conceived in love, and you failed to negotiate yourself any rights. **As soon as she signed that, Paige knew she had gone one step too far. Gold was going to find out now, whether Paige liked it or not. Damn her temper!

Mr. Gold went still. "And what is _that_ supposed to mean, Paige?"

Paige swallowed, hard. He reminded her of a nature special she had seen, where the lion seemed so still that she thought it might have been holding its breath as it waited for the right moment to pounce on the helpless gazelle. And she had no illusions; she was definitely the gazelle. The only thing she could do now was step up and tell him. **I remember everything.**

When Gold didn't respond, Paige couldn't tell if it was a good sign or a bad one, but she had started this, so she might as well keep going. **I was betrothed to my true love. I was going to be a queen, and a damn good one, too. Until my brothers were put under a spell by a witch from a swamp. I don't know if you knew her, but then again, I sometimes wonder if you had a hand in that part of my misfortunes as well. **Paige was trying to tread carefully, but Gold's face gave away nothing right now. **You made a deal with me. You stole my innocence in exchange for knowledge, so I could save my brothers. When you were making that deal, you said that a child would result, but that was it. I agreed to sign your foul contract, and, in essence, agreed to bear your child, but it was **_**you**_** who failed to specify what part you ****would have in that child's life. **Gold still hadn't moved or tried to speak, but he could no longer keep the fury from his face. Paige trembled at his expression, but she couldn't stop now. **I remember everything,** she repeated. She didn't know how to say his name in sign language, so she spelled it out. **I remember **_**you, **_**R – U – M – P – E – L – S – T – I – L – T – S – K – I – N.**

As he watched Paige's hands, Gold's fury grew and grew until he was in a rage. He had decided long ago not to leave any marks on her in this world, but now he weighed his options and decided that, not only would it be satisfying to hurt her, it would most likely frighten her into submission. And besides, it would feel so good to give his anger an outlet. So when she had finished spelling out his fairy-tale name, Mr. Gold deliberately chose rage. He dropped his cane and grabbed Paige by the front of her shirt. The neckline was a fairly modest v, which he ripped open with an almost inhuman strength. In the same movement, he brought his face to her cleavage, savagely biting her right breast, just above her bra. He sank his teeth in, intending to do some damage.

But Paige put her hands up and shoved him away from her as hard as she could. He staggered back, his arms milling as he tried to catch himself. He landed in an ungainly sprawl across her loveseat, looking shocked.

**This is what you've done to me,** she signed, her face angry and just a touch triumphant. **Because of you, I have hormones racing through my body that turn even this timid little mouse into a fierce tigress protecting her cub. I will not let you harm my baby. I swear it. **Without taking her eyes off Gold, Paige bent to pick up his cane and tossed it at him. **Now get out of my house,** she signed, glaring.

Paige stood there and watched him limp out, refusing to acknowledge the pain from his bite until he was well and truly gone.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree."

The stranger near the end is NOT intended to be the actual stranger in town, the writer August W. Booth, but simply someone who is a stranger to Paige. Just wanted to make sure that was clear. Mark Edwards is another OC, and more about his background will be revealed later…

Hope you enjoyed this, and please review!


	12. S1 Ch12 - A New Deal

First of all, thank you all for reading this! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!

Arinlianette: Actually, it wasn't incoherent. "...Mr. Gold deliberately chose rage." There will be further mention in this very chapter about how his choice to inflict an actual wound on Paige was deliberate... So while he did, indeed, leave potential proof, he didn't do it accidentally...

TheSlytherinWolf: Thank you so much! And just so you know, we'll be seeing a little bit more of Rumpel pulling strings and making things work to his own advantage in this chapter... He's not mucking with Eliza's life _just_ for the amusement value... We'll be seeing more on that as time goes by. And just so you know, the masquerade was the first time he _met_ Eliza, and also when he decided that she would be perfect for his purposes... to quote chapter six, "Now that he had found what he was looking for, it was time to begin creating a need in her life. A need only he could fulfill. It would take a couple of years, but Rumpelstiltskin was a patient man." But was the masquerade the first time he _saw_ her? We shall see...

And as always, I only own the characters and storylines I have created...

Watch for a new "fairy tale" to be incorporated here... don't worry, if you don't catch it, it's mentioned in the notes at the end. (And no, it has nothing to do with the character we see in this first scene... we've seen her before on the show, so I don't count the fairy tale she's in as a new one...)

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Ah, there you are, Maleficent," came Rumpelstiltskin's oily greeting.<p>

Maleficent managed not to jump, although her startled heart certainly skipped a beat or two. She hated it when the vile little man snuck up on her like this. "Have you found what I asked for, Rumple?" Although she desperately hoped so, her voice did not betray her. She sounded almost disdainful, as though she would rather be idle and bored than see what Rumpelstiltskin had brought for her.

But the impish man smirked; he knew better. "Indeed, I have Mally." His smirk deepened as he watched her fight to keep her anger from him. She _hated_ it when he called her that, so he, of course, couldn't resist. Besides, he preferred not to be called 'Rumple' by someone like her. With a flourish, he grandly announced, "To cure your loneliness, you need… a pet."

With a scathing sneer, Maleficent asked, "What am I supposed to do, get a _dog_? I've never cared much for pets." She was lying, of course. When her beloved raven had been turned into stone, she had been devastated. She had cried herself to sleep over his death for much longer than she had over her own defeat. She knew that her failure would have been far easier to bear if he were here to share her isolated banishment. But the idea of getting another bird, or even a somewhat more mundane pet, made her feel just a bit sad.

Making a face and waving his hands in a negating gesture, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Oh, no no no, dearie, nothing so common as that. I've got just the thing for you." He turned, and a puff of black and gold smoke obscured part of the room for a moment, before it faded into a glittering mist that quickly vanished entirely. A small, shaggy black unicorn stood there.

Maleficent felt her breath catch in her throat. She had always thought that the black unicorns had left this land years ago! Unicorns were intelligent beings, perhaps even more so than humans. How _had_ Rumpelstiltskin persuaded this lovely creature to come with him? She stared eagerly at the delicate creature, barely remembering to breathe.

Rumpelstiltskin knew he had her. Maleficent wanted this creature badly; it was written all over her entire being. For this, she would give up that one thing he needed from her. Without it, all his careful maneuvering over the years could be for naught.

"What's his name?" Maleficent's voice was almost a reverent whisper.

She was astonished to hear a voice in her head. _I am Gaudior_, chimed the strange thought-voice. There was just enough hint of maleness to keep the unicorn's thoughts from sounding androgynous.

With a slight blush, Maleficent's gaze flicked to Rumpelstiltskin. A sudden fear had occurred to her, and she didn't want the vile imp to hear her question. Wondering if she could communicate with Gaudior the same way he had spoken to her, she focused her thoughts on the unicorn. _I am no maiden, Unicorn. Will you leave me?_

Smirking, Rumpelstiltskin said, "No need to think so loudly, dearie. It's easiest just to speak to him." He snickered when Maleficent blushed because he had heard her thoughts. "Hardly information we didn't know, Mally," he goaded. Then he pulled the vial out of his pocket, still on the cord that enabled the charm to be worn around the neck. "And with this, he'll have to stay close, no matter what." His laugh was harsh and cruel.

Maleficent's eyes widened. At a glance, she recognized what that charm was, what it was meant to do. A part of her thought it cruel to keep the unicorn chained to mortals against his will, but another part of her understood the urge to keep this rare, beautiful creature close by. She did notice Gaudior's distaste for the thing, but now was not the time to deal with that. He didn't belong to her yet.

"He's wonderful, Rumpelstiltskin," she breathed. "You were right. Thank you." She hated saying that to the creepy little man, but she felt he had truly outdone himself.

"I knew he was for you as soon as I laid eyes on him, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "But there _is _one more thing. We haven't discussed the subject of payment," he said, smiling sinisterly.

* * *

><p>Paige stared at the scene before her for a long moment. A queen lay in childbed, her husband at one side and her daughter at the other. A faun nervously prepared for the difficult birth. Suddenly the scene started to rush toward Paige, so that she would have flinched and held out her hands to brace herself if she could have. Suddenly she was standing in the daughter's place. She dimly heard herself saying, "Good Doctor, save the baby." She felt tears running down her face, and she heard the sound of herself weeping, but from far away, as if it were underwater.<p>

Without warning, the unconscious queen sat up, opening eyes that were filled with anger. Fire seemed to flicker in the pupils of the queen's eyes as she shouted, "It was YOU! You did this to me!"

"It's not my fault!" Paige screamed. "There wasn't any other way." She could feel the scream in her throat, but the only sound she heard was a whispered echo of the words inside her mind.

The queen's raging form filled Paige's vision; the only other thing she could see was the flicker of torches behind the queen, which only added to the fiery appearance. But something else started to swim into view off to the queen's left side, but behind her. It was an image Paige had never seen except in her worst imaginings: a figure identical to the queen, but in more mundane clothes, stood on a chair with a rope around her neck, slitting her wrists. Then she kicked the chair out from under her feet and dangled for a moment that lasted forever, just staring into Paige's eyes. When the beam broke and Paige's mother fell, Paige tried to scream. She felt the hoarseness in her throat, but the only sound was the rasping breath of the half-choked figure that was climbing unsteadily to its feet. Paige's mother staggered forward to stand beside the queen. They seemed as different as they were alike. Although identical, the queen was the image of rage and fire, where Paige's mother looked pale and washed out, and the light around her was a cold whitish-blue. Even her hair seemed a lighter red, and her face was coldly distant, almost waxy with the onset of death.

"Your…fault…" the pale figure rasped, wheezing for the breath it needed to speak. "You…left…me…alone…"

Paige tried to back away from the two apparitions, but stumbled. She fell backwards, still scrambling away from the two versions of her mother. "I only made the choice you would have wanted," she cried to the flaming figure. To the other she pleaded, "But you said you were okay. You said you wanted my birthday to be happy." Once again, her mouth moved but the echo in her mind was the only sound that she could hear. She wanted so badly to explain herself to these specters, but they did not seem to hear the whispers inside her head. No matter how loudly she tried to scream, nothing came out.

Scrambling further away as the two figures began a slow, inexorable approach, Paige suddenly backed into a wall. No, it wasn't a wall, it was a corner, and the figures were too close now. She couldn't get away. She screamed silently as they reached out with both hands. Paige's hair on the left side of her head began to sizzle as the angry queen's hands got closer, while the hair on the right side of Paige's head started to freeze and crackle as the suicidal housewife reached for her.

Just as Paige's skin began to burn on one side and freeze on the other, she woke up. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she felt almost as battered as she had when she first came to in the hospital after she was attacked. Her pajamas and her sheets were soaked with sweat, and she could feel her hair plastered to her head.

She gasped, partly for breath and partly from her silent sobbing. She put her face in her hands; she still wasn't sure yet what was real and what was not. Which one of those two vengeful spirits was really her mother? Where was she? Paige, Eliza, Eliza, Paige… _who_ was she?

The clock in town began to chime. At first, Paige jumped, but as the sound continued, it began to soothe her. The clock reminded her of the Evil Queen's Curse, of Storybrooke. This may not be her real life, but it was real right now. Her true past was something she shouldn't have been aware of, but she was one of only a few who remembered.

Still trembling, Paige got up and stripped her bed, putting the sheets and her pajamas into the washer and turning it on. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep now, even though it was only 4AM. She turned the shower on, cold. The physical shock helped her to ground herself in her current reality. She had put a large bandage over the bite mark on her right breast. If it weren't for that mark, Paige would have found it difficult to believe that she had actually defied Mr. Gold like that. The bite mark had bled slightly, reminding Paige of her last memories of her true life, when Rumpelstiltskin was taking his payment for the information he'd given her. The wound stung a little as the water seeped through the bandage.

As she stood crying and shivering under the cold water, she prayed that someone would break this Curse and make everything right again. She wanted to go back to her kingdom, even though she couldn't speak until she had lifted the spell on her brothers. She wanted her prince to love her again; she wanted to fling herself into her father's arms to cry, although she would not be able to do the latter unless she succeeded in her task. But more than anything else, she wanted to be free of Gold's hold on her. Sometimes it seemed hopeless, and now, as she shivered, a new fear came to her.

Perhaps when this Curse was broken, Rumpelstiltskin would expect her to continue their unspoken arrangement. She hardly had any choice in this world, with all its rules and laws, and Gold had certainly seen to it that her fate was placed in his hands. There was no way she could free herself of him without speaking ill of him, and the bargain made that impossible, no matter what world they found themselves in. So would he still take liberties in the other world? Was this what he had intended all along?

The only thing she knew for certain was that if she ever lost hope, it would be the end of her. She would fail in her task and belong to Rumpelstiltskin for the rest of her life, and she could not let that happen, no matter what it cost her. Hope was all she had left now. Hope, and the nearly impossible task that would break the swan spell. She would carry on, if only for the sake of her brothers, which meant that she had to do everything in her power to make sure Gold didn't find out that she had begun that task.

She dreaded going in to work later this morning. She didn't know if Gold had anything… "special" planned for Valentine's Day or not. After all, they weren't a couple. They were just having sex. She blushed even just thinking of that. But especially after what had happened last night, she didn't want to spend today with Mr. Gold. How had she ever dared to stand up to him like that? She wondered what he would say if she texted him that she was feeling sick and wouldn't be in. She swallowed as she pushed away the sudden fear that she might no longer _have_ a job. That wasn't something she wanted to think about right now; things were bad enough with everything else: the nightmare, her new fears about Rumpelstiltskin, the fight with Mike. Not to mention that she still hadn't heard anything from Emma. Paige couldn't remember ever feeling more scared and helpless than she did right now.

* * *

><p>"My grimoire?" Maleficent's eyes were wide. Her Book of Shadows held her most powerful spells, as well as a rather significant portion of her own magic. If she gave it away, she would lose that part of her power.<p>

With a devilish grin, Rumpelstiltskin said, "You've been banished, dearie, and all your grand plans have come to naught. You haven't even used your grimoire since that whelp of a girl defeated you. What use is that old thing anymore?"

Maleficent didn't answer. She looked stunned, and was clearly torn.

"Well, if you're not interested, Mally, perhaps I should free the poor beastie from his tethers." Rumpelstiltskin made as if to uncork the vial.

"Wait! Don't!" Maleficent tried to keep her desperation from showing. But the impish man smirked; he knew very well how much she wanted the unicorn. "Why my grimoire? What use have you for my power?"

"Well, it's not exactly your power I'm after, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin replied, a shrewd half-smile on his face. "It's more your impressive collection of spells that intrigues me." Really, it was only a specific spell; now that he had chosen that little blueberry princess to save him from a fate worse than death, he needed that one spell to get him out of the unfortunate circumstance in which he would eventually find himself. He refused to spend the rest of his life in a cage.

"But what about me? I will lose the magic that I've stored in there," Maleficent said. She was hesitant to simply hand over part of her power like this, but Gaudior had captured her heart.

"Have you the inclination to use that power, dearie? After everything that wretched little brat caused you to lose?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, smirking.

Maleficent hesitated for a few more minutes before stroking the jewel at her throat. It was a precise movement which caused an odd shimmer in the air before Maleficent, who held out her hands almost reverently. A large black book with two silver locks solidified in her hands. The cover bore a silver medallion with a raven perched on a bare tree with the full moon looming behind it. She lovingly stroked the image of the raven on the medallion before holding the grimoire out to Rumpelstiltskin.

Grinning wickedly, he took it, saying, "I'll be needing the key as well, dearie."

Tapping the nail of her right forefinger once upon the gem at her neck, Maleficent tucked her left hand into a pocket sewn inside the low neckline of her gown. Once it had materialized in that pocket, she held the silver skeleton key out to the vile man standing before her, but did not let go when he tried to take it. With an evil chuckle, Rumpelstiltskin dropped the vial of powdered unicorn horn into Maleficent's other hand. She let go of the key and watched him saunter away, still chuckling softly.

Maleficent collapsed into her throne-like chair as she suddenly, keenly felt the loss of a significant part of her power.

* * *

><p>Some time later, Maleficent realized that the unicorn had not moved. "Gaudior?" she whispered, almost afraid that her voice would scare the lovely creature away.<p>

_Yes, Maleficent?_The unicorn's thoughts carried no hint of what it was feeling.

"If I freed you of this charm," she said, holding up the vial, "would you leave me? I do not wish to hold you here against your will."

Gaudior eyed the despicable thing with obvious anger. He had been lured in by an innocent maiden, who had sung him to sleep, his head laid in her lap. He had not known that she had been tricked into doing this by a hag intent on possessing one of the few remaining black unicorns. When he woke, he found that a piece of his horn had been cut off and ground up into that little vial, with some kind of spell put on it so he was forced to remain near that tiny piece of himself.

The silver filigree and the cord that made it into a necklace had come a few generations later, when the first hag's great-great granddaughter caught him trying to pick it up in his mouth when it fell out of her pocket in the forest. If only he controlled that dust that had once been his horn…

_You are not a maiden, it is true. And neither are you blameless in other ways._ His thought-voice still gave nothing away. Maleficent blinked back tears. Could she truly keep this magnificent being trapped here just to cure her own loneliness? Would she survive if she let him leave?

_But there is much sadness and hurt in you. And hope. Somehow you have not lost that innocent hope that the pure of heart always seem to cling to. _A hint of tenderness mingled with a slight confusion. _It is most unusual. _A long moment passed. _I greatly desire to be free of that foul charm. If you give me my freedom, I will remain with you until your mortal life is done._ Gaudior considered it a small price to pay. He was immortal, and even if Maleficent ended up living longer than most, she was still human.

* * *

><p>But try as she might, Maleficent could not lift the spell on the vial. She even tried removing the glittering dust from the vial, but that did not break the spell. She could only deduce that the spell had been put on the dust itself, for Gaudior felt no affinity to the vial once it no longer contained the remains of that small piece of his horn. Without knowing the spell that had been used all those generations ago, it would have been difficult enough to break it, but now that Maleficent had lost the power that she had stored in her grimoire, it proved an impossible task.<p>

In the end, Maleficent did the only thing she could think of. She made a collar for Gaudior, and her lessened powers were still easily able to fuse the ground-up dust of his horn into the collar. The unicorn didn't particularly care to wear a collar, but he did want to be his own master again. And Maleficent promised that she would continue to work on the spell, for the rest of her life if need be. If she could find a way, she would free him of that spell forever. And if she couldn't, then at least he held his own bonds, so long as he wore that collar. It wasn't what either of them wanted, but it would do for now.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold was not there to let Paige in at nine the next morning, which had never happened before. She waited anxiously by the door, wondering if something was wrong. She should never have told him she remembered, especially not the way she had done it. She knew he would be angry, and she would bear the brunt of that. But a tiny part of her wondered if he would be so angry that he would voluntarily cease to be her legal guardian. Thanks to her former self's quick thinking, he, too, could speak no ill of her to anyone, so he couldn't try to denounce her to the council.<p>

She leaned against the pawnshop's wall, watching for Gold to come down the sidewalk. Suddenly, at a little before ten, she heard a voice from behind her.

"What are you doing here," Mr. Gold asked angrily, despite how much he had enjoyed his encounter with Moe French a little while ago. Getting one up on Regina had only brightened his mood further, but seeing Paige waiting for him as if it were a normal day soured things for him. "Do you honestly think you still have a job after that little stunt you pulled yesterday?"

Paige felt her face go pale. **But wait, can't we please talk about this?**

"Very well," he grumbled, unlocking the front door of the shop.

When he held the door for her to go first, Paige was surprised, but her hopes of being easily forgiven were dashed the moment she realized that he was locking the door behind him. She swallowed, feeling like she was trapped in the lair of a dangerous animal, with no way out and no way to tell when it would attack.

Without preamble, Gold said, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go, Paige."

**So…you really mean it? You're not going to let me keep my job?**

"Why should I? You've proven that you don't deserve the privilege of living on your own, so why would you need a job?" He glared at her, thinking of all he had done for her over the years.

**Are you…will you stop being my guardian, too? **Paige's hands were unsteady; if only he was that angry, she could try to get Mike to become her primary guardian. Mike was still upset with her, but she could simply tell him that she would stop sleeping with Mr. Gold. The pawnbroker would have no reason to continue visiting her if he was no longer her guardian.

A slow, evil smile spread across Gold's face. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you in the lurch, you poor dear. What ever would you do without me?" His smile deepened at the dismay Paige couldn't keep from her face. "And besides, that's exactly what you want, isn't it?"

Paige's face became stony and determined. **What's your price?**

"For your complete freedom from me?" He chuckled. "I'm afraid, my dear, that no price could ever cover that. The only way you can earn your complete freedom is to fulfill your end of the bargain we made in another life." And in case she hadn't made the connection, he added, "And you can hardly manage that under my roof, dove."

**You can't just fire me. **Paige's mouth was pressed in a thin line, her eyes grim. **According to our deal, you cannot speak any ill of me.**

"Oh, I hardly need to resort to that, Paige." His smile was sinister. "All I have to do is inform the council that my poor little shop just isn't making enough overhead to support a full-time employee. I can tell the mayor and all those other sops that I do hate to have to do this to you." His voice took on a tone of mocking concern and sadness. "Ah, the poor dear, she deserves so much better than this." He dropped back into his normal voice. "I can lay you off while lamenting the fact, and only praising you further. I can just as easily make it my fault that you'll be forced to give up your freedom."

Slow tears started down Paige's face. She remembered the nightmare she'd had last night, and her resolution to do whatever was necessary to keep that freedom. **What do you want?**

Gold's face was triumphant. "First of all, I will expect that our, ah, benefits, if you will, shall continue. You understand what I mean, right Paige?"

**Yeah, I get you. You want me to keep being your whore. **Paige was angry now, although from the moment he had starting hinting that she could make a deal to keep the status quo, she had expected something like this.

He gave a slight smirk at the term; after all, whores did get paid, and he always gave her something or did something nice for her every time he had his way with her. "Good. And I want a bit more from you. I want you to be more open to…alternative ideas."

**I will not make an agreement without knowing exactly what I'm getting myself into.**

"First of all, that exquisite talent you have with your mouth. I'll expect that more often." He smirked as Paige grimaced; he knew she had only done that to get her way. He had been surprised that first time; he thought Paige would have realized that he always attended open council sessions. But then again, she rarely worked on Thursdays, when the meetings were held, and she had been so desperate that she hadn't stopped to think before finding a means to get what she wanted. Of course, his own little deflection when he implied that he wouldn't change his hours for her sake had had its place in her decision.

He continued, "The other thing I'm really interested in is not having to do all the work myself. At least, not all the time. That's rather hard on my poor leg, you know."

**Meaning?**

"I want to watch you move above me, Paige. I want to see you on top." He had tried to get her to do it before, but no matter how he tried it, as soon as he'd gotten her atop him, she either went still or tried to climb off. But now he had her right where he wanted her; if she didn't agree to this, she would lose the thing she wanted most.

Paige blushed. The thought of willingly doing that, of her controlling the pace and the motion – it just seemed so…dirty. But that was only part of her blush; there was a tiny voice in the back of her head that was wondering how good it might feel to be in control like that. She shook her head in a motion that looked more like a shudder, trying to dislodge that mutinous thought. She didn't want to do this, but what other choice did she have? **If those are the only stipulations you have for this part, I will agree. But since this is only a side benefit and not what you really want out of this deal, I'll want a concession or two of my own.**

Gold was a little surprised by her perceptiveness, but she was a truly unique young woman. He smiled as he said, "Well, that depends on your…concessions."

She took a deep breath, embarrassed to even ask for this first one. **First of all, I expect all the foreplay to continue.** Her face was bright red, but she feared that if she didn't make this demand, he would simply take his pleasure of her and be done with it. She might as well get her own pleasure out of it if she was going to have to continue to let him touch her. In defending Gold to Emma and Mike, Paige had begun to realize that she actually did like the pleasure he gave her, once her body took over and made her mind stop fighting.

Mr. Gold's smirk deepened; he was enjoying her obvious embarrassment. "That won't be a problem."

**I also ask that you continue to refrain from leaving any marks on me. It would be difficult to explain them to anyone who might ask, especially since I'm not sure Mike and I can make up from this fight. **Paige's hand moved slightly, subconsciously, toward the wound on her right breast, where he had bitten her last night. Gold smirked; he could tell that she thought he had lost control. She didn't realize that he had coldly chosen rage over practicality. He supposed she hadn't noticed how the rage had disappeared the instant she'd acted out of character. His rage was an old friend by now, and it would take a lot more than last night's events for it to take control of him.

"Also agreed," he said, somewhat reluctantly. He understood her point, but pain could be so very enjoyable. "Anything else, dove?"

**Well, this is probably an obvious one, especially considering the reasoning behind the last one, but this needs to continue to be kept as secret as possible.**

"You're right, Paige, that one is pretty obvious. But yes, I agree to it."

**Alright then, we're done with the side benefits. So what is it you really want, Mr. Gold? **Paige's hands were shaking; she couldn't imagine what this deal would consist of.

"There may come a time when I will need your assistance. It may be in this world, it may be in the one we left, should we ever return there. But you will do everything in your power to assist me, or to assist those who may be trying to help me, regardless of whether or not our previous deal is concluded, and, of course, regardless of the outcome of that deal if it has been concluded."

**I would like to be given the right to choose if that assistance is acceptable to me. **Paige's mouth was set in a grim line.

Gold smirked; this young woman certainly was perceptive. "Very well, you may have that choice, but if you are unable to assist me, or if you _choose_ not to, you will owe me."

**What will I owe you?**

"Oh, I don't know just now. Let's just say you'll owe me a favor."

**No. I will not negotiate for some unnamed favor. At least set some kind of limits on that favor.**

"Very well," he frowned. Perceptive, and also difficult. He had certainly chosen a headstrong girl for this. "I won't ask for anything too big, like your soul or any of your children." After her outburst yesterday, he rather suspected she would rather break her deal to save her brothers than give him any child she bore, even the one he had fathered. "Let's say…shelter, when I need it. Sustenance. A place where I can be safe for a time, should I need it, or at least a place where I can find what supplies I might need."

Paige thought for a moment. This "favor" was only _if_ she was unable to render other assistance to him. **As long as offering that sustenance does not impoverish my kingdom beyond what I can repair within a few years, assuming that you collect this debt in the world that was. And the 'supplies' must meet with my approval. I will not allow you to carry off children or peoples' souls or shadows, or anything other unsavory things required for your dark magics. When I say supplies, I mean food, water, clothing, that kind of thing. I will not fund your evil endeavors. And the shelter will be freely given as long as it does not put my kingdom, my people, or my self in danger. Also, that shelter cannot last for more than a year. **She did not realize it, but as she made her case, Paige looked as confident and capable as Princess Eliza. She had always felt that, as Paige Cygnus, she measured up very poorly against her former self, but right now she was every inch the Crown Princess.

Mr. Gold frowned. He didn't like how good she was at this. Deals were supposed to be his forte. But then again, she might not have worked for his purposes if she were not a stubborn and determined young woman. "Very well," he said, "it's a deal."

**So how does it work in this world? Simply our word to each other? Or do you have some sort of contract for me to sign?**

"Not exactly, Paige. We _will_ have to…consummate our deal," he said, smirking. This step wasn't precisely necessary. There were other ways to do it, but this was a very enjoyable way of sealing a deal.

**Does that mean what I think it means?**

He simply eyed her body, letting his desire show. "I'll even pay you for the hour you didn't work, since that was my fault for not being here." He made a gesture of dismissal. He should just have time for this before opening the shop. "I'll just need a moment to finish something up, but you go on upstairs, Paige. I'll expect you to be ready for me." His leer was even more evil and possessive than usual. She swallowed, but headed for the steps.

* * *

><p>Upon returning to the Dark Castle, Rumpelstiltskin wanted to immediately look up the spell he needed, but there was a sparrow hopping about anxiously, a message tied to its leg. He read the tiny note and smirked. It would be fun to show these two just how foolish they truly were, so he put the grimiore on an elegantly carved wooden bookstand before heading out again.<p>

* * *

><p>"Will you please stop pacing? You're giving me a headache," said one young man to the other. The one who spoke was lounging casually on the window seat.<p>

"Oh, well, I'm so sorry if I'm too common for your tastes, my prince," snapped the other. Both appeared to be young men, but the snappish one's voice was of a rather higher pitch than was usual for a man in his twenties. Another oddity was their clothing; the one who claimed to be common was dressed very well, in an almost royal manner, while the one who had been called prince was dressed as a poor farmer.

The young men looked nearly identical. Anyone who saw them together would have taken them for twins, for they were the same age, down to the very day.

"Oh, stuff it, Norah," said the farmer.

Looking around in almost a panic, the princely one hissed, "Don't call me that, Robert! Someone could hear you!"

"What, can you not control your servants well enough to ensure privacy when you want it?" Robert pronounced it "prih-vacy" instead of "pry-vacy." "I suppose privilege isn't everything you thought it would be, is it?" he asked smugly.

"Get off your high horse, Robert." Norah was sneering at him. He had no room to be so condescending to her. "After all of your grand dreams of working the land and feeling the soil, 'making something grow, something truly useful'? You want this as much as I do – nay, more."

Robert was tense, partly with anger at her for daring to say such things to him, but also from the irritation of knowing that she was right. He missed his privileged life. From what he had heard, his father had nearly enough support to take the throne and become the first king in seventy-two years. And when that happened, Robert would truly be a prince. His father's supporters called him such already, and although he couldn't care less about ruling a kingdom, 'King Robert' had an awfully nice ring to it.

"I think we've both learned our lesson here," Robert said angrily.

"And what lesson is that?" Norah was beginning to wish she had never met this spoiled-brat prince, but she was certain that, by the end of the day, she would be back on her farm, where she belonged.

"We should have been grateful for what we had, instead of giving it away on a whim." Robert crossed his arms over his chest and stared moodily out the window.

Norah sighed. "After all the times you ran away from your precious prince-hood? You told me you had been trying to escape since you were eight. That hardly sounds like a whim to me." She hated that he could make her so angry and then make her feel sorry for him, all in a span of a few short moments. He hadn't been this temperamental when they first met, but in the time she'd spent masquerading as Robert, she had gathered that he had not entirely been himself while they were together at the farm.

"Well, I _thought_ I wanted out," he said, defensively.

Not wanting to argue this with him, Norah sighed and sat on a nearby chair. "And I thought I wanted out of my own life." In truth, there were parts of being a prince that she enjoyed very much. But somehow, even after all the times she had felt so dissatisfied with her small, struggling farm, after all the times she had wept from the ache for something different, something better, all she could think of now was how much she missed the ramshackle farmhouse. Even those early-morning chores she had so despised seemed almost welcome. Well, maybe not that, but she felt she wouldn't mind them quite as much anymore.

"By the way," Robert said gruffly, "I've, ah, built up your reputation a bit. Your hired hands were starting to think you were…well, more interested in men than women."

Norah _was_ more interested in men, but since her parents had died, she had been dressing as a boy so that she would be allowed to keep the farm and run it, and hire the help she needed to keep the farm going. They thought her name was Norman. She had always thought she was careful not to let her feminine side show, though.

"What do you mean, Robert?" When he blushed and hunched his shoulders, she asked, "What have you done?" Norah knew something unpleasant was coming.

"I…may have, um… _entertained_, a few young women… while I was on the farm." He hadn't originally intended to do anything about the first young woman who approached him, but she had been persistent. She had taken notice of which nights he accompanied the farm-hands to the pub for a few beers, and she was always there.

One night, the other young men had left, but Robert was just beginning to miss his easy life, so he stayed for another pint. One more had turned into four more, and the next thing he knew, there she was, batting those pretty brown eyes at him, whispering her name in his ear. For the life of him, he couldn't remember it now, but that night he had cried it out to her in the throes of their passion. When he woke the next morning, she was gone, leaving him with only an aching head and a green ribbon that had fallen under the bed. No one in town seemed to know her, but a traveling merchant had left town quite early that morning, they said. He had sprained his leg rather badly some weeks before, so he had stayed at the inn until he was healed enough to travel comfortably. The merchant had had a young, pretty wife with brown eyes, who kept her hair tied back with green ribbons.

There had been other women he'd dallied with. After that first time, he tried to make sure they were women who would be passing through, because by now, he had begun to think about seeing if they could switch back. But with the glamours Rumpelstiltskin had put on them, Robert's own parents wouldn't even recognize him for who he truly was. But his reverie was broken when Norah, suddenly standing in front of the window seat, slapped him.

"How could you? I have to go back there now, and live there! What if one of those girls expects things from me that I cannot give?" She was both furious and brokenhearted. She had hoped to one day find her true love and drop her disguise. Her reason for switching back was that she had suddenly started thinking of one of her farm-hands a few months ago. She hadn't realized that she had feelings for him. Could he be her true love? Perhaps. But if he was, how could she reveal herself as a woman after what Robert had done? "In my house? In my _bed_? Or did you at least have the decency to go to the inn?"

Robert flushed even darker, but now part of it was anger. "You know the financial state of your farm, I couldn't afford an inn. Most of them were in your bed."

"Most of them? _Most_ of them? How many did you defile my bed with?"

"All told, I had a baker's dozen over the past year and a half," Robert said, not sure if he was defending himself or bragging. "But only ten of them were in your bed. Elsa met me out in the fields when the barley and the full moon were high, Laurel practically attacked me in the hayloft on the pretense of bringing me water when the farm-hands all took sick at the same time, and little Mari – ah, she was a firecracker. Hair that shone like red gold in the sunset. She parked her wagon down by the creek." He smirked as he remembered Mari. "She liked to go skinny dipping in broad daylight, she did."

Another full-armed slap brought him up short. "You, sir, are a cad!" Norah's face was contorted with anger and embarrassment.

When she tried to slap him again, Robert caught her arm and held it, pressing the joint of his thumb into her wrist. "And what are you going to do about it? They were all passing through, none of them live in that gods-forsaken town."

"Stop it, you're hurting me," Norah cried, trying in vain to twist her wrist out of Robert's grasp. Robert held on, pressing even harder than before just to show that he could. He pulled her wrist down, which caused Norah to fall to her knees in front of the window seat, gasping in pain. Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared into Robert's eyes. The pleading, subservient expression on her face made him sneer. He let go, and she cradled her wrist to her chest, which she kept bound to hide her breasts.

"If I had known you were so cruel when I met you," she whispered, "I would never have let you into my house."

"I'm not cruel, I just refuse to be slapped for doing something any man would do." Robert was staring out the window again. "I didn't lie with them just to make your life more difficult. I was lonely, and they were willing. And as I said, I made sure they were all travelers."

"Do you think that matters? Most traveling peddlers and such have established routes. Some of them pass through every year, but others come every other year, or every third year, or fifth. What if one of them comes back claiming I've fathered her child?" Norah stood, still cradling her wrist. "And if Mari is who I think she is, I hope you weren't one of the unfortunate ones. The Mari I know has strawberry-blond hair, barely as tall as my shoulder; she sells herbs and poultices out of that wagon, and the mole on her behind is as well known to most men as her face. She has even convinced a few that were otherwise absolutely faithful, and some of her lovers have ended up with a rather uncomfortable side effect." When Robert tensed without answering, Norah added sweetly, "I believe they called it, 'fire down below,' or something of the sort? As I understand, it has no cure. Only the waxing and waning of the symptoms."

Robert swallowed. He wondered how long it took for symptoms to show, but he couldn't bring himself to ask.

At his worried look, Norah cheerfully said, "I once overheard the doctor telling one _very_ worried husband that if no symptoms…_flared_ within four to six weeks, he should consider himself a lucky man."

The relief on Robert's face nearly made Norah laugh, but she was careful to step out of reach before she spoke. "That will teach you not to go around sullying other peoples' reputations."

As Robert turned to deliver a scathing remark, a chillingly familiar voice lilted, "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything." Robert and Norah turned to Rumpelstiltskin, their hearts pounding.

* * *

><p>Paige waited nervously in the apartment's small kitchen. Gold only used this apartment for extra storage and for its kitchen, so he wouldn't necessarily have to leave the pawnshop when he took his lunch hour. Paige had taken off her clothes and hung the shirt and pants neatly in the small, open coat closet near the apartment door, with her socks and shoes on the closet floor. Her bra lay on one of the shelves above the closet, but she had left her panties on in case he wanted to touch her through them today. Although as angry as he was, she wasn't sure that there would be much foreplay to this ordeal.<p>

She bit her lower lip, fidgeting. When she heard him on the steps, she whirled to face the door, mentally trying to prepare herself.

When he opened the door and saw her standing there, the corner of his mouth twitched, but it was impossible to say if he meant it as a smirk or a frown. He removed his suit jacket and hung it next to Paige's clothes, then draped his tie on the shelf. His dress shirt was soon on a hanger as well, and then he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, causing it to swing on its hanger.

Still wearing his pants and a thin tank top, he advanced on Paige. The object he held in his hand resembled a quill pen. "This is…a very special pen. It will make a mark that is similar to a tattoo. Although this isn't quite as permanent," he mused thoughtfully. "The mark I make will burn if I am in need of your assistance," he explained, "and the closer you get to me, the less it will burn. And vice versa, of course. That's how you can find me if I need you to. And as soon as your debt to me is paid, by whichever means that shall be, the mark will fade as if it had never been." He stood in front of Paige and held the pen ready. "I'm afraid it's going to hurt, dove," he said, smiling in a not-so-apologetic manner.

He poised the pen over her heart, and began to drag it across the soft flesh of her upper left breast. She had backed up against the kitchen table when he approached, so she grasped the edge of the table with both hands. Her breath hissed through her gritted teeth as she tried not flinch away from the pain. She didn't want to make him any angrier than he already was.

When he had finished, there was an image of a mask – a representation of the very mask he had worn when he first met Eliza. It was little more than a black outline and some of the scrolled details, also in black, inscribed on her flesh, so there were no gold tones to it, but it was easily recognizable to them both. Paige looked down at it; she would have to be careful of her tank tops. She didn't want to have to explain this "tattoo" to anyone, and some of her shirts might slip enough that people could get a glimpse.

Laying his pen aside, Mr. Gold took Paige's arms and folded them behind her, pushing her down on the table. He used her own body weight to pin her arms under her back. Then he took a good grip on her panties and ripped them, first over one hip, then the other. He yanked the torn panties out from under her and tossed them to the floor. He ripped the bandage off her right breast. The sight of the twin marks on her breasts excited him: the wound on her right breast where he had bitten her yesterday, and the angry marks around the "tattoo" he had just given her.

Paige had never seen him this violent before, except maybe when he took his payment in the world that was. He unzipped his pants, and she could see that he was hard and ready. He rubbed one finger against her opening before making rough circles over her sensitive nub. She squirmed; this was almost painful. He liked to get a little rough sometimes, but aside from that first time in the world-that-was, he'd never done it without at least a little tender foreplay first.

Moving his finger back down to her opening, he found what he wanted. She was just starting to get wet. Without warning, he shoved himself inside her. She tried to console herself with the thought that she had sworn to do whatever she must to keep what little freedom she had, but this was not a pleasant experience. Aside from the fact that he was thrusting so roughly, her back was starting to ache from having her arms pinned underneath her like this.

After a few minutes, Gold felt a twinge in his leg. It broke his rhythm for a moment, and having always wondered if it would help, he said, "Put your legs around me, Paige."

Her face had been turned to the side; she looked at him now, and he could see that she was intending to fight him on this. But whatever she saw in his face convinced her otherwise. She tried to adjust her position to wrap her legs around his hips, but the angle put far too much pressure on her already strained spine. When he saw what was wrong, Gold lifted Paige's hips so she could pull her arms out from under her. It was a shame, really; he'd been enjoying the idea of her being bound in some fashion. Perhaps if they tried it on a more yielding surface, like a bed, it would work better. He grinned wickedly, making a mental note to himself.

Once her arms were released, Paige had no difficulty getting her legs around him. This new position changed the angle slightly; he was able to thrust even deeper than before. With the first thrust he felt himself reach the end of her, hitting her cervix. He had only done that on one occasion, one of the rare times he had entered her from behind; usually, he preferred to watch the struggle on her face as she tried to fight the sensations. During the time he was reminded of now, he had tried not to go that deep, as he understood that most women found it uncomfortable to have their cervix bumped during sex. But he'd gotten too carried away to control himself, and Paige had turned out to be one of those few women who enjoy the feeling. Her orgasm that time had been more intense than any other.

Paige's eyes fluttered as any attempt at resistance came to an abrupt end. Gold said, "Oh, that's nice, Paige," as he felt her thigh muscles contract against him. She had given up so thoroughly that she was pumping her own hips, matching his every thrust. It wasn't long before he could sense the moment building in her. He pumped his hips faster, and it only took a few thrusts before her body was overwhelmed. He tried to hold his own climax off, but with the way her body was tightening around his, he couldn't last. He cried out as he gave one final thrust, feeling an odd sense of vertigo as his hot seed spilled inside her. He collapsed on top of her, panting for breath.

After a few moments had passed, he put his hands on the table on either side of Paige, lifting his upper body to look around. Even that small movement shifted his body against hers just enough to send another, smaller orgasm racing through Paige's body. Everything looked a little bit off, and after a moment, Mr. Gold realized why. His last thrust must have been more than the table's legs could handle. That sense of vertigo had been the table collapsing under them!

He pulled himself out of her and laid on his right side, facing her. He kept his upper body propped up. Paige's eyes were closed and she was still panting for breath as she basked in the afterglow, but when he spoke she opened her eyes. "I guess I was pretty rough on you, dove," he said. She looked around, and he smiled when he saw her realize that they were now on the floor. He trailed one finger between her legs, brushing that sensitive spot. She gasped nearly silently as yet another small orgasm shuddered through her. "But it looks like you enjoyed it," he said in a suggestive tone. He smirked to see Paige blush. It was so easy to embarrass her.

Mr. Gold laid an oddly gentle kiss on Paige's forehead. "Our deal is consummated, then." He was somewhat awkward in maneuvering himself back up. Fortunately, when the table collapsed, his cane, which had been propped against the table, had landed nearby. After wiping himself off and tucking everything back in, he zipped up his pants. After he had put his shirt, tie, and suit jacket back on, Gold turned to Paige. "I'll expect you downstairs, ready to work, before too much longer, Paige."

* * *

><p>Later that morning, Gold had left Paige in the shop by herself to run a few errands. He walked up to the door of his house, and it was ajar. His good mood evaporated as he eased into the house, going straight for the gun he kept in a drawer near the door.<p>

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin smirked. The hopeful looks on their faces! But they would find out soon enough.<p>

"According to the message I received, 'tis something… desperate?" He smiled as he spoke, and it wasn't a very nice smile.

"We want to go back," Robert said.

As if he didn't know what the young man meant, Rumpelstiltskin repeated the end of Robert's statement as a question. "Go back?'

"Back to our lives. We want things to be the way they used to," Robert replied, trying not to show his anger.

"Please," Norah added, "we want to switch back."

Rumpelstiltskin gave a small laugh. It was true that the royal descendant of a union between a fairy and a human stood before him, but he had found another such. Of course, if it weren't for him, there might not have been another option. He was glad he had made those arrangements, because Eliza was far better suited to his purposes than this sniveling wretch.

"I'm afraid there's nothing more I can do for you in that regard," Rumpelstiltskin replied gaily.

"Please," Norah cried, falling to her knees at Rumpelstiltskin's feet and gripping the trailing ends of his vest.

Making irritated sounds, Rumpelstiltskin forcibly removed her hands. When he looked up again, Robert had also knelt, but in a more measured manner. He didn't like begging, but if it got him his comfortable life back, he would do it.

"I thought you were both so… unhappy. You wanted out, forever. That's what you told me before." Rumpelstiltskin turned his back on them as he casually paced toward the window.

"We were. We… thought we were," Robert said. His voice was choked with emotion. "But we were wrong."

"Well that's not _my_ problem. You're going to have to learn to live with it, dearies." Rumpelstiltskin's smile was sinister.

"Please," Norah whispered, "just take off the glamours."

The impish little man laughed. "Those old things? Glamours fade after about six months or so, didn't you know?"

"You mean… we could have gone back ourselves after six months?" Norah's eyes were wide. They didn't need Rumpelstiltskin's help after all, they could simply switch back!

"Well, not exactly. There's a bit more to it than that, dearies." Rumpelstiltskin's mouth twisted into an amused smile.

"There always is with you," Robert muttered, barely able to keep the animosity out of his voice.

"Temper, temper, little man," the imp teased. "Or are you always this rude, even when you're wooking for hewp," he lisped mockingly.

Robert tensed, gritting his teeth. But it was Norah who spoke. "Please, Rumpelstiltskin, we'll pay any price. Just switch us back."

They were both still on their knees in supplication, so Rumpelstiltskin bent down to put his face right next to Norah's. "I'm afraid I can't do that, dearie. You see, you're already… switched. Back."

"What nonsense is this?" cried Robert, standing as if to confront Rumpelstiltskin directly. But before he could finish rising, he froze.

"Ah, ah, ah, dearie. One shouldn't attack one's guests. It's very rude, you know," said the sneering little man.

"How could we be switched back? What do you mean," cried Norah, not daring to try to stand. Robert was frozen in what looked like a very awkward and uncomfortable position.

Pretending surprise, Rumpelstiltskin put his hand to his chest, exclaiming, "I thought you knew! You were switched at birth." They gaped at him, dumfounded. "I tried to warn your mothers about this. But the woman who would be queen was desperate to give her husband a son for his heir."

"You mean," Norah started saying, her voice faint. She couldn't seem to finish that thought, so Rumpelstiltskin did it for her.

"That's right, dearie. You're the royalty here, not him." And she was a weak, pathetic princess. She didn't have the spirit for his needs. It was fortunate, indeed, that Eliza was a much better prospect. Perhaps in a few years' time, Norah would build some backbone, but he didn't want to wait for something that might not even come to pass. No, Eliza already had what he needed. And better still, she had found her true love, unlike the useless little girl in front of him.

"Impossible!" Robert shouted, still trapped halfway between standing and kneeling. "I'm a prince! I am! You cannot take that from me!"

"I've taken nothing more than I was owed, and I cannae take something from you if it was never yours to begin with. It was your mother, and hers," he replied, pointing to Norah. "They're the ones to blame. I told them they would regret it, but they dinnae listen to me. Now everything is lost for your little kingdom. Not that it was such a much to begin with," he said, giggling slightly.

"What do you mean, lost?" During the time she had spent disguised as Robert, she had come to feel a certain responsibility to this land. Now she understood why; it was her land.

Putting a hand by his mouth as if telling secrets, Rumpelstiltskin replied, "Once the word gets out, and believe me, dearies, it _will_, the man who would be king will lose his support." His hand came down as he made a shrugging sort of gesture. "Well, maybe not all of it, but enough to keep him from taking the throne. Your little kingdom is dying before it was even born. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Robert suddenly fell heavily to the floor. He couldn't believe that he had been born a poor farmer. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.

"Fare thee well," Rumpelstiltskin mocked cheerfully, striding out the door as if he hadn't just destroyed their lives.

* * *

><p>And Rumpelstiltskin was right. When the truth came out, most of the family's support melted away. Norah's true father, Felix, even attempted to placate the other factions by immediately betrothing the two. Norah was the blood heir, the true descendant of King Fiero's younger son, and thus had the best claim for the throne, but of course, a woman could not rule. It was preposterous, an abomination, like that ridiculous Blueberry Kingdom. Even though they had a proper king just now, his heir was a girl. Preposterous.<p>

Robert had been raised all these years as the successor to what should have been Felix's throne. He had been groomed to take Felix's place as head of the family, so by betrothing Robert to Norah, Felix hoped to soothe the riled tempers.

He had not known of his wife's deception, and even so, their second child had not only been a girl, but complications had left his wife unable to have more children. Recently, she and their daughter – their youngest daughter, he had to remind himself – had retired to an old manor, where she could be away from the fighting; she had been sickly ever since birthing the girl. Felix wanted to confront his wife, but was afraid her health was too poor. He didn't want to cause her any harm, but still. She should have told him the truth so he could have tried to prepare for this. But given the circumstances, he wanted his family close. His wife wouldn't like it, but she would have to come back to the fortress that Felix was using as center of his campaign to take the throne.

But even the betrothal was not enough to keep his supporters happy. Most of them felt deceived, and it mattered not that he had been fooled as well. His family might never again have the chance to reclaim the throne that should have been rightfully theirs.

* * *

><p>The next day, Paige headed over to the sheriff's office. Yesterday, Gold had come back from his errands and tersely told her to take the rest of the day off. When she'd hesitated, he yelled at her, so she had simply grabbed her things and ran. She had no idea what put him in such a foul mood.<p>

Later that night, Mike had come to her door. She invited him in, but he stood on the porch while he gave her the message that Gold had just called, saying he'd been arrested. Paige had been shocked. She wondered what he could have possibly done that got him arrested. She might have texted him, but she doubted that prisoners were allowed to keep their cell phones on them.

As she walked, she saw Emma and Henry. They were laughing, and Emma was holding a cone of vanilla soft serve that she hadn't touched. They were also walking toward the sheriff's office, so Paige ran a little bit to catch up with them.

"Hey, Paige," Henry said, smiling widely at his new friend. "What's up?"

Turning to Emma, Paige signed.

"She says she's on her way to visit Mr. Gold." Emma frowned slightly. She still wasn't too sure about the… relationship, for lack of a better term, between Paige and Gold.

"Oh, we're bringing him ice cream!" Henry could sense that something wasn't quite right between Emma and Paige, but he hoped that if he pretended not to notice, it would go away.

**It's starting to drip,** Paige signed to Emma.

"Yeah, well I'm not going to lick it," the sheriff retorted. She didn't want her mouth on something Gold was going to put his mouth on. Ew.

"We shouldn't let it drip, though," said Henry. Even though Emma hadn't translated Paige's comment, Emma's response had made it pretty clear what the mute girl had meant. "Hey, Paige didn't get any ice cream, maybe she wouldn't mind!"

With a small, nearly silent snort of breath that could have been a laugh, Paige signed, **Why not?**

So Emma handed the cone over, saying, "It's all yours."

* * *

><p>When they entered the sheriff's office, they all felt tension in the air, although Emma and Henry knew there was a lot less of it than there had been. Paige walked over to the cell as Regina said, "Let's go, Henry." She sounded pretty satisfied; Paige wondered if she even wanted to know what had just happened in here. But she just handed the ice cream through the bars so she could sign, <strong>I caught up with Emma and Henry on their way back, and they were just letting it drip, so I licked it for you. I…hope you don't mind.<strong>

"Not at all, Paige." His voice was mild and free of any sexual connotations, but his eyes were a different matter. Paige felt herself blushing.

**Is there…anything you need while you're in here? **Paige could see how much he hated being in there, and she felt sorry for him.

His voice soft so Emma, at her desk, wouldn't overhear, he said, "Actually, something was recently…returned to me. If you can get my keys from Miss Swann, I'd like you to take it back to my house for me."

While Gold finished his ice cream, Paige went to ask about his keys. Since he was, after all, Paige's guardian, Emma decided to allow it. When Paige returned to the cell with the keys in her hand, Gold stood where Emma wouldn't be able to see him hand the chipped cup out to Paige. In even softer tones than before, he told her exactly where to put the cup. It wasn't where the cup ultimately belonged, but he wasn't about to give Paige the keys to that cabinet.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Skin Deep."

And yes, that was another deliberate Ursula quote. Her lines just lend themselves so well to Rumpelstiltskin, don't you think?

The term "Grimoire" is derived from the word "Grammar," which describes a set of symbols and explains how to combine them to create well-formed sentences. A Grimoire, however, describes magical symbols and the ways to combine them properly. It can also be called a "Book of Shadows." (check my profile for a link to a site that sells blank grimoires; it is not only the place where I got this description, but the link will take you directly to the very grimoire I describe as Maleficent's.)

Maleficent's grimoire is very different from Miranda and Lilura's family spell book, which is nothing more than a list of spells. For the purposes of my story, putting a spell into a grimoire requires the sorcerer or sorceress to put a small part of their magic into the book as well, which makes later uses of that spell easier, whereas anyone using a spell out of Lilura's spell book has to put out the full magical effort every single time they wish to cast a spell. Back to the grimoire; the more spells one puts into the Book of Shadows, the more of one's own magic is put into it. As long as the grimoire belongs to the one who made it, that person can draw on the magic held in the book. If it is stolen or, in a more unusual turn of events, given away as it is in my story, then the owner, Maleficent in this case, loses a portion of her power. (The reason I came up with this idea is that Maleficent is pretty much the most powerful Disney villain of all time, and I found it quite sad that Regina was able to beat her so _very _easily. Yes, I know Regina went for a low blow and tried to attack Maleficent's pet, but still… So I came up with a reason why Maleficent is less powerful than we are accustomed to seeing her.)

Now, this power _can_ be used by whomever owns the grimoire, but it will not work as well for a stranger as it would for its true owner. However, the new owner now has free access to the spells, and can find their own way to use or adapt those spells, which is what Rumpelstiltskin was really after…

With Robert and Norah, I am bringing in the story of "The Prince and the Pauper." Strictly speaking, that's not a fairy tale, but as there are now many versions of this tale, including a Disney version featuring Mickey Mouse, I decided to add my own version to my story. I do not own any rights to Mark Twain's original novel, I am simply putting my own twist on the story and fitting it into ABC's Once Upon a Time (to which I also do not own any rights.)

Also, I want to make it very clear that Mr. Gold did not lie to Paige in Chapter Five. When she asked if he would open late so they could attend the open council session, he said, "After due consideration, I'm afraid not. I can't just change my hours on a whim." But the truth is, he always attends council meetings, including the open sessions, so while it is not part of his posted hours, it is common knowledge that he opens his shop late so he can attend them. For the purposes of my story, these meetings happen on Thursdays, and Paige has off on Thursdays, so she wouldn't know that he would not be changing his hours in the slightest. To "open late" for him on a day when one of these council meetings is held would mean that he did not open shortly after the end of the meeting. He simply used her lack of knowledge because he wanted to find out how far she was willing to go.

I hope you've enjoyed the latest installment!

Please please please review and let me know!


	13. S1 Ch13 - Along Came A Spider

Okay, sorry this took so long! It was a ton of fun to write, but my new character kept taking over my keyboard and adding more of her backstory, LOL!

Speaking of which, this chapter introduces a new story. Like bringing in "The Prince and the Pauper," this is not an actual fairy tale. Don't worry, it's extremely obvious. Just wait 'til you read the first four lines, and you'll know. But it makes for an awesome storyline, so a big thanks to my sis for requesting this!

And as usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's show and characters, just the people and plotlines that have emerged from my own imagination...

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Why, Little Miss Muffet, she sat on a tuffet,<br>With a big bowl of curds and whey.  
>She ate ever quicker but never grew thicker,<br>And scrawny she always did stay!"

Muffet ignored the boys easily. They had composed that little sing-songy rhyme back when she was seven, and it had reduced her to tears. But now, five years later, she was twelve, and it no longer bothered her. She simply kept spooning the curds and whey into her mouth.

She felt extremely lucky to live where she did. This was prime dairy country, even though it was so close to the Wolfswood. Curds and whey, Muffet's favorite food, was plentiful here, made from the milk of her Papa's own cows. She herself helped with the milking whenever Mama allowed it. Although lately, Mama had been saying that Muffet was becoming a young lady, and that it wasn't proper for a young lady to be doing men's work when there was nothing wrong with the menfolk.

Today's bowl had been sweetened with a touch of honey and some blueberries imported from a kingdom that her papa said was very far away, at least as far as the safety of trade was concerned. When she asked what he meant, he explained that the Blueberry Kingdom, as it was often called, wasn't really so very far away in distance, but in between there and here stood a kingdom where everybody fought everybody else, so it was very dangerous, not to mention expensive, to trade for the best blueberries in the whole world. It made Muffet smile. Papa hadn't said so specifically, but she figured out for herself that what he told her meant that their dairy farm was very successful. As she savored the rare addition to her curds and whey, Muffet felt a deep sense of pride. Everything her father owned would be hers one day, sort of, when she was old enough to get married and help her husband run the whole farm.

But her thoughts were quickly drawn back to the dismal schoolyard. The boys had had enough. They knew she was used to their old rhyme, so they had worked up something new.

"That Little Miss Muffet, she brought in a tuffet,  
>Brought it to school to-day<br>She was too slender; her bum much too tender,  
>To sit a hard stool, she'd say."<p>

This was much harder to ignore. It was true, in a way; she was so slim that her behind was rather bony, and spending all day at school on that hard, wooden stool could get painful at times. But that wasn't her fault. She didn't try to be so skinny; in fact, her mama often gave her extra curds and whey, "to fatten the child up," as her mama said.

After her papa had spoken to the schoolteacher, Muffet had been allowed to bring in a small cushion, but she learned very quickly to take it wherever she went. Otherwise, the boys would hide it from her, or stand in a circle around her, tossing it back and forth and making her jump to try and catch it. She had made herself a new schoolbag after that. She made the bag large enough for her cushion, with a smaller pouch on the front for her books and her home-bound notebook. The strap went up over her head, crossing her body so that the bag itself hung conveniently under her arm.

The cushion was not, by any means, a tuffet, but she supposed the boys hadn't been inventive enough to come up with a new rhyme for her name. Fighting tears, she scraped her spoon around the bowl to get the last clinging curds. She carefully put the dirty bowl back into her little lunch basket, wrapping it in an old rag her Mama had packed for that purpose. It wasn't easy to clean curds and whey out of a wicker basket.

The boys had started in again on their new rhyme, but before they even got to the word 'tuffet,' she whirled to face them, crying, "Don't call me that!"

"Little Miss Muffet, Little Miss Muffet," they sang at her, dodging out of reach when she tried to slap them. She had just taken a good grip on the handle of her lunch basket, intending to hit them with it, when the bell on the corner of the school house rang. Lunchtime was over, and the boys were scampering away, laughing.

"Don't let them get to you, Muffie," said Betsy, who had hurried over as soon as she saw that the boys had gathered 'round Muffet. "You never mind when Auntie and Uncle call you that, why does it bother you so much?" Betsy was Muffet's cousin, but Betsy's parents had died when the girls were little. Only a year older, Betsy had been raised by Muffet's parents, so the girls both felt more like sisters than cousins. Their mamas were sisters, and Betsy's papa had been an only child with few living relatives, which was why Muffet's parents had taken their niece in.

Muffet glowered after the retreating boys, saying sullenly, "It's different; Mama and Papa can call me that all they like. They do it because they love me. Those boys only do it out of meanness."

Smoothing Muffet's honey-brown hair, Betsy confided, "You know, Muffie, I've heard tell that if a boy is mean to a girl, it means he likes her." Betsy didn't truly believe that any of those boys had a crush on Muffet, but she hated to see the girl cry. Muffet looked younger than she really was, perhaps because she was so skinny.

Rolling her eyes, Muffet shot Betsy an exasperated look. "They cannot all like me, Betsy. In fact, I rather think none of them do." With a failed attempt at pretending she meant it, Muffet added, "I would not want any of them to." The truth was, she often sighed over Locke, the dark-haired, somewhat scholarly boy who didn't seem to quite fit in with the bullies. But he never tried to stop the other boys, and while he had never started a round of teasing, he didn't hesitate to join in once the others had begun.

Betsy just shook her head and sighed. Her mouth made a line that could have been a slightly exasperated frown or an ironic smile. Muffet seemed to think no one had noticed her interest. Aside from the sidelong glances when she thought no one was looking, Muffet often scripted elaborate letter L's onto the pages of her homemade notebook. She made them small and large, squared-off and loopy, with minimal flourishing and with excessive flourishing. The girl should be glad that no one sat directly on her other side, or the whole school would probably know of Muffet's crush by now.

"Come on," Betsy sighed, pulling a still-glowering Muffet behind her.

* * *

><p>Paige sighed. She pressed the heels of her hands to the sides of her aching head; sometimes that seemed to help relieve some of the pressure. Between her pregnancy-induced fatigue and the stress of having made a second deal with Rumpelstiltskin, she was only surprised that the headaches were slowly becoming less of a bother, rather than more. Paige had been cleaning in the shop. Mr. Gold was in the back room working on something she hadn't paid any attention to.<p>

When she had told him she was pregnant a few weeks ago, the cleaners she would normally use had disappeared. The new cleaners were all environmentally friendly and non-toxic. Apparently, Mr. Gold had called Paige's OB/GYN to verify that these products would be safe for her to use while pregnant. Part of her thought that it was nice of him to care, but a cynical little voice in her head told her that he was only doing it for the sake of the baby. Biologically speaking, he _was_ the child's father, and he had recently tried to insist that he be acknowledged as such. She'd won that argument, but it was because of that argument that she had been forced to make an additional deal.

"Why don't you go on upstairs and have a lie-down, Paige," Gold suggested as he walked out of the back room, smirking when Paige jumped, startled. "I believe you still have some of those chips you like up there, if you need something to snack on."

Paige licked her lips, thinking of those Doritos. Then she had a thought. **Do you know if there's still any sweet and sour sauce up there?** Usually she only ate sweet and sour chicken on occasion, but lately she'd been craving the tangy-sweet sauce. She had tried dipping several things in it; her favorites were cucumbers, steamed broccoli, and French fries. But now she wanted to try it with Doritos.

"I'm… really not sure," Gold replied, both amused and revolted by Paige's latest apparent craving. He had never really been interested in chips, be they made of potatoes or of tortilla. "You'll have to check the fridge."

Suddenly hesitant, Paige asked, **Is there a certain time you want me to be back by?**

After a moment, Gold said, "Not really. I'll come wake you if I think you've been gone too long."

Paige swallowed and backed away. She didn't like the look on his face. She sincerely hoped she could time it right and get back to work before he decided she'd been gone "too long," whatever that was supposed to mean.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Mat's Pest Elimination Services, thank you for calling. My name is Matilda, how may I help you today?" The girl answering the phone looked much younger than 22. She was boyishly slender and had her shoulder-length hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Two hunks of honey-brown hair, the front parts of her shortest layer, dangled on either side of her face. It was not by design; they simply wouldn't stay in the ponytail. When she was out actually working, Matilda pinned them up, but here at the office, she didn't worry so much about it. She took down the caller's name and address, asking questions about the nature, number, and variety of the pest problem.<p>

Despite her business' somewhat pretentious name, this "office" was a small room above her garage. The other rooms above her garage were devoted to storage space. She'd also had a special room built onto the back of the garage, built to code for storing some of the more dangerous chemicals that she used in her business. One of these rooms above the garage had been set up as a research library. She had filled it with what few books she could find about pest control, as well as numerous folders full of laminated magazine articles and printouts of internet resources. Everything was organized by type of pest.

"Thank you, Mr. Clark" Matilda said, smiling brightly. She'd heard it said that if you smiled while talking on the phone, the person on the other end could hear it in your voice. "We'll have someone out to you in about half an hour." Even though the convenience store was close by, she would need to make sure she packed the van with everything necessary for dealing with the problem. After listening a moment, she added, "Alright, will do! Thanks again for thinking of Mat's Pest Elimination Services, and have a great day!"

She always felt weird telling people to have a great day when they had called to report a pest problem, but she didn't know what else would be appropriate. Business wasn't exactly booming here in Storybrooke, so she didn't really have to take too many phone calls. True, business wasn't booming, but she did well enough to get by. Although lately, there had been more calls than normal. Looking out at her soggy yard, Matilda was pretty sure there would be even more calls before it was over. As she pinned up those two bothersome locks of hair, she almost laughed as she muttered to herself, "It never rains but it pours." It was nicely ironic that all this wet weather she hated was giving her more business than ever before.

* * *

><p>When Matilda got back home, she found a message on her business line's answering machine. It was late enough now that her business hours were technically over, but she called the number that had been left on her machine anyway.<p>

It was the animal shelter, and once she had introduced herself and given her spiel about her business, she asked how bad it was. When the man on the phone asked why she wanted to know, she said, "As you may be aware, sir, our business hours are over for the day, technically speaking. However, if this is an emergency, someone can come out this evening." Before she could even tell him that doing so would involve a small after-hours fee, he assured her that tomorrow morning would be fine. "Great, is eight o'clock too early?"

As it turned out, tomorrow was his day off, but he said she could speak to one of his employees. "And who should I put down as the contact for tomorrow's consultation? David? Okay, very good. We'll have someone out there at eight tomorrow to meet up with David!" She listened for a moment. "Oh, not at all. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't an emergency." After another moment, she replied, "We'll be able to give David an estimate on the spot." She was fairly certain she knew what the problem was. Several other homes and businesses had the same problem, and there really wasn't much that could be done about it, except to wait it out. But until she could properly assess the situation, she wasn't about to theorize, especially over the phone. Sometimes people had a way of assuming that such theories were the be-all, end-all truth. "Well, thank you, sir, you have a great evening too!"

As Matilda hung up the phone, she sighed. Much as she appreciated the extra business, it was something of a headache. She tried to be very careful on the phone. She knew that she looked like a teenage girl, and from what she'd been told, she didn't sound much older over the phone. She very much doubted people would hire her if they knew that the supposed teenager taking their call would be coming out to exterminate the pests, so she always tried to say "we" and "someone" instead of "I" and "me."

But then again, who knew? If she made a good enough impression with all these calls she was getting, she might not have to sweat appearances as much. Word of mouth was a powerful thing, especially in business.

* * *

><p>Muffet anxiously surveyed the white dress her mother had made. Although she was nervous, she still noticed the look in Betsy's eyes as Betsy helped her dress. It was tradition for a girl's mother to make this dress. Mama had made Betsy's dress last year, just as carefully and lovingly as she made Muffet's dress this year. But she knew Betsy had keenly felt the loss of her own mama.<p>

"Are you okay, Bets?" Muffet couldn't keep the concern out of her voice.

Trying to laugh it off, Betsy replied, "Of course, Muffie, why wouldn't I be?"

Taking both of Betsy's hands in her own, Muffet said, "Do you miss her?"

Betsy opened her mouth and closed it again, staring off into the distance. "I don't know," she said finally. "I don't remember what she looked like, not really. I have that picture your parents had done for me just after they died, but when I think of my Mama and Papa, all I can see is that picture." Her lips trembled. "I wish I could see her face again, just once. Papa's, too. Maybe then I could remember them better. Papa was tall, I know that. I remember he almost had to duck when he went out the door. And I remember the lullaby Mama used to sing me, but I can't hear her voice singing it. It's always Auntie's voice I hear."

Muffet felt a tear slide down her cheek, making a warm, wet streak. "Oh, Betsy," she said, drawing her cousin in for a hug. She didn't want to point out that, since they were sisters, their mamas had both been sung the same lullaby as children. That was why Muffet's mama had sung the same lullaby, not because she was trying to help Betsy remember her parents.

After a moment, Betsy broke away, laughing half-heartedly as she said, "Come on, then, Muffet, we have to get you ready for May Day."

Muffet turned around so that Betsy could fasten the three rows of tiny buttons up the back of the dress. It was all white, with wide ruffles of lace covering the skirt. The lace was also sewn over the bodice of the dress. There was strap over each shoulder, but aside from a ruffled flounce of lace draping around the uppermost part of each arm from the front to the back of each strap, there were no sleeves. Muffet thought her bare arms looked awfully pale and skinny.

"There," said Betsy, "that's the last one! Now, shall I brush out your hair, Muffie, or would you like to do it?"

"I _can_ brush my own hair, Bets. Besides, don't you need to get ready, as well?" Muffet grabbed her hairbrush just before Betsy could.

"I don't have to wear the same thing as you, silly," Betsy said, laughing.

"You still have to change. I'll brush my hair while I wait," teased Muffet, "but if I get done first, I might have to leave without you."

"You won't finish first, unless you don't do it properly," Betsy teased back. "One hundred strokes, Muffie! No cheating!" Betsy continued as she left the room.

* * *

><p>Counting Muffet, there were only five girls wearing white at the Maypole. They stood to one side, clustered together and murmuring nervously, looking around as though afraid they would be reprimanded for their whispers. They were all both excited and terrified. They had all turned fifteen since the last May Day, which meant that they were now old enough to be formally courted.<p>

"I still think 'tis not fair that the boys don't have to have some coming-of-age ceremony," Muffet said softly. The other girls nodded in agreement. "They just go off into the forest on a hunt together. Whatever they bring back, we eat tonight. We're the ones who have to twine the Maypole in front of everyone."

"But we don't do it all by ourselves," blond-haired Tara said. Her face, usually full of healthy color, was quite pale. "Your cousin Betsy and the girls who came of age with her last year will hold the red ribbons. We only have to do the white ones."

Before Muffet could reply, fat little Enid put her hand up to whisper behind it. "Do you think the boys get told what we get told? About… you know, a husband and a wife? _Together?_" Her eyes were wide.

The other girls all shifted nervously, glancing over their shoulders to make sure no one else had heard. Blushing furiously, Muffet tried to hide her embarrassment behind a slightly more formal manner of speech. "I certainly do not imagine that boys are born with sure knowledge of these things. I imagine someone has to tell _them_ about it, too." They were all embarrassed at the thought of those intimate things their mamas had told them.

But their conversation was interrupted when Betsy and the three other sixteen-year-old girls came over to them. They all wore their best dresses, with red ribbons twined through their hair and tied on their dresses, each with a wider red ribbon tied around her waist. The four older girls carried five garlands woven of slender willow branches and flowers.

As one, the five girls in white turned and swallowed nervously.

* * *

><p>When the time came to twine the Maypole, their nervousness was gone. After Betsy and the other girls had crowned the fifteen-year-olds with the willow garlands, the feasting had begun. The deer brought back by the three boys who had turned fifteen during the past year had been cooked to perfection, and only the fifteen- and sixteen- year-olds were allowed to eat it. They were also given wine, but for the first time in the fifteen-year-olds' young lives, that wine was not watered. It had done much to ease their nerves.<p>

Laughing, Muffet lost count of how many times she passed Betsy. The sixteen-year-old girls were twining counter-sun-wise, while Muffet and her four companions circled the opposite direction. The tall pole's earthy hue was being covered by the intermixing of red and white ribbons. Tomorrow, when the pole was taken down, it would be inspected to see if any spots had been missed. Many believed that if any part of the pole was left uncovered, it would mean that one of the girls would either be a spinster or unable to bear children. But none of the nine girls dancing and laughing were thinking of that just now.

The boys were watching. Muffet tried not to look at Locke. She had almost tripped over her own two feet last time she'd met his eyes. He was Betsy's age, a year older than Muffet, and still unattached. It was to be expected; last year six boys had come of age, but only four girls. One of those boys had both courted and married a girl a year older than himself, but four of the other five had begun courting one of the four girls their own age. Only Locke had not courted anyone this past year.

Muffet glanced at him again. Her chest felt tight when she saw that he was watching her. He clutched a bunch of ribbons in one hand, tightly, as if he was afraid they would blow away despite the lack of a breeze. There were only three boys who had turned fifteen this past year, and five girls. Muffet knew all the other girls were nervous that they would be left uncourted, and each had pinned her hopes on one of the three boys. Except for Muffet herself, of course. She started to look at Locke every time she came around the pole, meeting his eyes even though she was suddenly terrified.

* * *

><p>Paige had been grateful when her cell phone alarm woke her from her nap. She did feel better, and best of all, Mr. Gold was not in the apartment. When she had gotten back downstairs, she found him rearranging one of his displays. He had claimed that he was just about to come upstairs and wake her, but she didn't think he would ever leave the shop while that much stuff was spread out on the floor. From the way he had smirked, she was pretty sure he was just pushing her buttons, trying to make her blush. It worked, though. She <em>had<em> blushed.

Looking at her watch, she saw that it was almost Mr. Gold's lunch hour. She'd started scrubbing the walls behind the tables and shelves in the back room after she came back downstairs, and she decided that she would finish the wall she was working on before going upstairs to eat. After all, she'd had a break earlier, and she didn't want Gold to think she was taking advantage of her condition.

She sighed when she dropped the rag. Of course, it had happened at one of the few spots where it could fall all the way to the floor. Paige got to her knees and crawled under the table to retrieve the rag.

Mr. Gold swept the curtain aside and immediately saw Paige's backside sticking out from under one of the tables against the wall. He smirked and said nothing, just enjoying the view, especially as she started crawling backwards. She hesitated, and he knew that she had sensed his eyes on her. She backed out a little further before turning on her knees. When he saw the rag in her hand, Gold realized why she'd gotten under the table.

He walked over in front of her. "Well, Paige, since you're already… in position…" Once again, he let the implication hang in the air, enjoying the look on her face. Still kneeling, she tried to back away, but the table kept her from going far.

Paige blushed, looking away as soon as she realized that she was staring directly at his crotch. She knew what he wanted, and she knew she couldn't get away with refusing this time, as much as she wanted to get out of it.

"Breaking our new deal so soon, Paige?" Gold's expression was a leering combination of triumph and expectation. Paige was quite good at this, really. He assumed it was because she was so empathetic, since he knew that she had never done it before she had begged him for his help with the council.

She looked up at him, shaking her head. Hesitantly, she put the rag on the counter and took off the gloves she had been wearing to clean with. She unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper of his pants. After freeing him from his boxers, Paige paused, one hand wrapped tentatively around him.

"And by the way, Paige," he said, smirking, "I've already locked up for our lunch hour, so there's no need for you to rush the job." The other two times she had done this had been amazing, it was true, but she hadn't taken her time with it, hadn't built up the anticipation as much as she could have. She looked up at him almost fearfully, and he smirked down at her, cupping her face in his left hand while still leaning on his cane with the right.

Paige flinched away from his hand and looked away from his face. That small, treasonous voice in the back of her head was saying that if he wanted her to take her time, she should tease and tantalize him until he begged for it. Blushing furiously, Paige tried to ignore that voice. She moved her head forward, alongside him, and flicked out her tongue to lick a long, wet line from the edge of his boxers to the tip of him. Her hand slipped into his boxers to cup his testicles while she repeated the lick on the other side.

"Oh, God, Paige," Gold moaned as she massaged his testicles and put her mouth over just the head. Slowly, a little at a time, she moved her mouth lower, taking more of him in each time before pulling back to just the tip. When she had worked her way down until all of him was in her mouth, she held it there for a long moment. When she pulled back, she not only pulled her mouth entirely off of him, but she opened the hand that was in his pants, leaving only her palm grazing his testicles. He gasped a little at the sudden deprivation of the sensations she had just been giving him.

As she lowered her mouth again, Paige rolled her eyes up to gauge his reaction. She didn't expect him to be looking at her, so she wasn't prepared for the heat in his gaze. Suddenly feeling breathless, she looked away, blushing yet again. Gold's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, and he leered down at Paige, even though she was no longer looking at him.

This time, she bobbed her head up and down, taking as much into her mouth as she could, as fast as she could. As she sensed the pressure building in his body, she stopped, pulling away again, but this time she kept gently squeezing his testicles.

His moan turned to another gasp. This was almost more than he had wanted when he asked Paige to take her time, but at the same time, it felt so good. He was also enjoying the way she kept glancing up at his face without quite meaning to.

Her tongue flicked out, licking a quick circle around the tip of him. After another half-glance at his face, she used the hand not in his pants to wrap around the base, moving that hand in time with her mouth. Since she wasn't taking as much into her mouth as before, she was able to go faster.

Gold could feel his orgasm building. He leaned forward slightly to brace his free hand on the table, since he suddenly wasn't quite sure his legs would hold him, even with the support of his ever-present cane. His body tensed, and Paige pulled her face away, still pumping with one hand and trying to find the rag with the other. But Gold was one step ahead of her; he had removed his plain, white handkerchief from his breast pocket before leaning against the table, and held it in the hand he was using to steady himself. He handed the linen square to Paige.

A few minutes later, Paige gingerly put the used handkerchief on the table, off to one side. Then she braced herself on the table and stood up. Gold hadn't moved, and when she turned to face him, she was startled to find him so close.

Without a word, he unbuckled her belt and gave it a good tug. It slipped free of one belt loop, and Gold tugged twice more, making Paige's hips jerk each time. When the belt finally slid free, he dropped it on the floor. He undid her pants and shoved them, along with her panties, down around her thighs.

When he put his fingers between her legs, he smirked knowingly at her, saying, "Why, Paige, you naughty girl." He pulled his fingers out to show Paige how wet they were. "That turns you on, doesn't it?" This was what he had seen in her eyes, what had surprised him when she had looked up at him earlier. She _enjoyed_ going down on him! When she blushed, the expression on her face told him all. Even she hadn't realized how turned on she was by doing this, mainly because she was too embarrassed to admit it to herself.

"Well, then, dove," he said, pushing her pants further down her legs, "hop up on the table there." He smiled a very wicked smile. "I should return the favor."

Once she was on the table, Mr. Gold removed her pants entirely. The flats she was wearing slid off easily when her pants did. Once Paige was in the position he wanted her in, Gold slid two fingers inside her as he put his mouth on her, making Paige gasp that nearly silent gasp.

* * *

><p>Matilda was almost running late. She'd had a phone call a few minutes after seven this morning, yet another business that needed an exterminator. Mr. Johnson wanted to know how soon she could make it, but she hadn't been able to give him an exact time. Fortunately, her trip to the animal shelter was just for a consultation, so she was taking his number with her to call from her cell phone as soon as she was on her way. She grabbed her keys, glad she had thought to restock the basic supplies that she tried to always keep in her truck. It never hurt to be prepared.<p>

* * *

><p>"'Tis finished!" At the mayor's announcement, a great cheer went up from the townsfolk. Small children, already tired, began to caper, partly from picking up on the genuine joy the adults were feeling, but also partly as a way to keep themselves awake. They were allowed to stay up as late as they wanted tonight, and they meant to make the most of it.<p>

"And now the exchanging of the ribbons," cried the mayor. "Those young men old enough to become engaged may ask for the red ribbon from those girls old enough to bestow it. The unattached boys may each offer his ribbons to the girl he wishes to court!" The crowd listened eagerly, despite hearing this same speech every year. "If a girl accepts all of her young man's ribbons, it means she is ready to be courted, but if she only accepts certain colors, the young man in question must work on the virtue symbolized by whichever color the girl has refused to accept." The three fifteen-year-old boys, and Locke, stepped forward to hold up their ribbons, as was tradition.

The mayor paced among the four boys, pointing out the different colors as he announced their meaning. Not that anyone except the smallest children didn't know those meanings, but this had been part of the traditional ceremony for as long as anyone could remember. "Purple, for commitment. Red, of course, for passion. And not just the lusty kind of passion, either, boys! Passion for your work! For life!" The mayor smirked knowingly at the boys. Young men sometimes needed to be reminded of that. "Blue for happiness and healing." He touched Locke's blue ribbon with a wry expression on his face. "It takes both to make a marriage work, boys." Several adults chuckled at this. They remembered that the mayor's wife had refused that particular color when he had first offered her his ribbons. As a boy, the mayor had been known for his pessimism. "Then there is green, for prosperity and fertility. And not only of the farm, might I add." The boys all blushed furiously, as did the girls. But no one was looking at the girls right now. Muffet suddenly realized that this was the boys' moment to be in the public eye. To feel everyone else watching them, to hope that they didn't embarrass themselves.

"Next we have yellow, for wisdom, which _will_ come with time. Orange is for confidence and empathy. Take notice, boys, these are contained in the same color. You must be confident in yourself, but not so much that you feel you are better than anyone else. Including your intended." The mayor grinned when one of the boys licked his lips and swallowed. Probably just nerves, but from what he knew of the boy, one of these girls may very well be refusing an orange ribbon tonight. "Pink is for love and friendship, for you if you marry the girl you give these ribbons to, she will be your companion for the rest of your days. And last but not least, brown is for practicality."

His face solemn now, the mayor walked in front of the four boys. He met their eyes and gave each one a nod, almost as if to acknowledge their elevation to manhood. "Choose well, lads, nay, men. This is the most important decision a man can ever make."

The nine girls had pulled up their skirts to sit or kneel during the mayor's speech, but now they stood hurriedly; the boys were approaching them. Muffet smiled when she saw Hiram kiss Betsy's hand. She was too far away to hear what he said, but after his lips moved nervously, Muffet watched as Betsy untied the wide red ribbon around her waist. Then Betsy, laughing, tucked it under his collar and tied it in a big bow at his throat. They were engaged!

Suddenly, her view was blocked. Looking up, Muffet felt her mouth go dry. Locke, the ribbons still clutched in his hand, stood in front of her. Later, she couldn't remember what either of them had said, but she had accepted all of Locke's ribbons. But she would never forget the look on his face while he tied the ribbons to the appropriate spots on her dress. His hands shook, especially while threading the green ribbon through the lace just under her small breasts. Neither of them seemed to be able to catch their breath. After years of waiting, of not knowing, Muffet was now to be courted by the young man she'd been pining for.

* * *

><p>Matilda smiled and put out her hand. "David," she greeted, "I'm here to assess the pest problem." Although she smiled brightly and shook his hand firmly, David looked a little confused.<p>

"You're… the exterminator?" He licked his lips. Matilda could almost read the thoughts behind his expression, and she didn't much care for them. _Shouldn't she be in school right now,_ was her kindest interpretation of that face he was making.

"Yes, as I said, I've come to assess the problem." Maybe if she just stuck to the basics, this would all work out.

But David couldn't stop himself from asking, "Wasn't there anyone else they could send out? Someone a little…" He paused, not knowing how to say it without being insulting. "More experienced?"

Matilda couldn't keep her frustration hidden, but she tried. "I am twenty-two years old, and I started doing this the summer before my sophomore year of high school. That's four years of full-time experience, with three summers before that."

David realized he was being a jerk, and said, "You know what, that was really rude of me. I apologize. I… shouldn't have made assumptions." He took a deep breath, not sure he should say what was on his mind. But the curiosity was too much, so he tried to phrase it a bit more diplomatically. "I guess since my boss said the company was called 'Mat's Pest… something… I guess I just assumed that Mat himself would be coming out. I'm sorry."

Matilda couldn't fault him for making that assumption. "I'm sorry, too, David. I have a confession to make. I _am_ Mat." At his confused look, she explained further. "My name is Matilda, which I've always kind of hated anyway, but also, people don't want to hire a girl to exterminate their pests. They seem to think it's a guys-only kind of job. I mean, if you were looking in the phone book for an exterminator, would you pick the one that said 'Muffie the Spider Slayer,' or would you go for something a little more… masculine?"

David tried to keep a straight face. "Muffie?" he asked. "Why Muffie?"

Matilda blushed slightly. "It's what my parents used to call me when I was really little. When I got older, they started calling me Mattie, which wasn't much better, but it gave me the idea to ask people to call me Mat." She waved one hand as if to clear the air of that particular topic. "Anyway, if you're still interested in getting my opinion, and my estimate, I'll need you to show me around." It was her way of asking if he still wanted her expertise, without actually asking.

"Oh," said David, "right! Uh, this way!"

* * *

><p>Just over an hour later, Matilda was done with her evaluation of the property. The building wasn't really all that big, but there were a lot of crawlspaces she had needed to investigate, not to mention checking for potential problems outside. But it was as she had expected.<p>

"Honestly, there's not that much I can do for this problem. I mean, I could tell you to clear the place so I could fumigate, but that's not going to stop this. There are a lot of businesses and residential buildings alike that are having this problem. What's happening is all this rain we've been having. Creeks and streams are running high, and I've seen glades in the forest that have turned into swamps and small ponds. With all this water filling up the spaces where they normally live, all the creepy-crawlies are coming inside, away from the flooding."

She didn't need to reference the notes she'd made on her clipboard. "So I'm going to make the same recommendation to you that I've been making to my other clients. I can go through your building and re-caulk all the seams and set up some traps. I would also recommend that you try clearing the brush around the building. It won't stop the problem, but it might slow it down. Until the water has gone down, it's my opinion that we shouldn't treat this like a full-blown infestation."

David nodded, wondering how he was going to remember all the details. But Matilda had that well in hand.

Pulling few sheets of paper off her clipboard and stapling them together with the stapler she kept in one of cargo pockets on the leg of her cover-alls, she handed them to David. "Give this to your boss, that's got all the details of my evaluation, as well as my estimate. There are actually three numbers there; one for just the traps, one for the traps and the re-caulking, and the third also includes me clearing the brush for you." She flipped to the second page and indicated each number in turn. David was relieved to see that all three options were clearly marked. Between Kathryn's announcement that she wanted to move to Boston to go to law school and Mary Margaret urging him to tell his wife about their affair, he had been somewhat scatterbrained recently.

"This is great, thank you so much," he said as he took the papers.

"And I'm sorry I wasn't what you were expecting," Matilda said, almost wryly.

"Oh, no, that was all my fault, Matil – I mean, _Mat_," David replied. He shook her hand again. "It was nice meeting you." The smile he gave her was sweet and almost melting. Matilda couldn't help but feel that it was a shame that he was wearing a wedding band.

"It was nice meeting you, too, David." Matilda smiled her best professional smile and turned to leave.

"Oh, and if I ever need an exterminator, I know who to call now," he added.

Matilda's smile as she turned back was more genuine. "Thanks, David. Please, tell all your friends about me, too," she joked.

"Oh, don't worry, I will," he replied, only half-joking himself. She had seemed very professional, and unlike most girls he knew, she hadn't hesitated to investigate the crawl-spaces. He had even seen her come face-to-face with a large spider. From the expression on her face, she didn't much like spiders, but she had simply killed it rather than make a fuss about it. As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure _he_ would have made more of a fuss if a spider that big had suddenly appeared right in front of his face like that.

* * *

><p>May Day was only a month away. She and Locke hadn't exactly discussed it, but Muffet was fairly certain that he would ask for her ribbon. The past year had been better than she could ever have imagined. Locke wasn't by any means perfect, but she loved him dearly.<p>

Today it was her turn to stand watch for the evening. Someone would come to relieve her around midnight. Locke was standing duty, too, but on the other side of the village. She was fairly certain that the elders did that on purpose, so sweethearts and newlyweds wouldn't be distracting each other from their duties to the village.

Sitting on her ever-present cushion, Muffet scanned the nearby wood-line. It wasn't actually part of the Wolfswood itself, but only a line of glades and clearings on the far side of this wood separated it from the forest where the Wolfs made their home.

No sign of Wolfs. She was eating her curds and whey; her mama had just stopped by to bring her a little something. "To fatten you up," Mama had said, yet again. Muffet shook her head, a small smile on her face. It wasn't like she starved herself to be thin, but Mama couldn't seem to accept the fact that not everyone gained weight as easily as most people did.

Suddenly, Muffet felt a strange tickling sensation on the upper part of her left arm. Glancing down, she screamed, but made little sound through her mouthful of food. In fact, she almost choked. Without a thought for the waste of a good treat, Muffet dropped the bowl to the floor so she could use the spoon to flick the enormous spider off her arm. That thing was bigger than her outspread hand!

It hit the wall of the little guard post with an audible thunk, then fell motionless to the floor. Muffet stared at it, wondering if she'd managed to kill it. She pulled her skirts up above her knees, intending to crush the terrifying thing, just to be sure. But just in case it was still alive, she didn't want it to be able to climb onto her skirts.

As she edged, whimpering, toward the creepy thing, its long, fuzzy legs uncurled and it scuttled straight at her. A sudden terror lodged in her throat so she couldn't try to scream again. Muffet had never seen a spider that big! She ran out of the little shack into the twilight, never realizing in her panic that she was running straight into the woods.

* * *

><p>It was only an hour or so before dawn when Muffet, scratched and bruised from her headlong flight into the dense forest, finally found her way out again. As if the spider wasn't enough, she had gotten badly lost. Everyone always said that if the Wolfs attacked, they would use these woods as a staging area for their raid. Muffet had spent the night fleeing one terror after another. Every sound had seemed so foreign, so threatening. But about an hour ago, she had started to see a muted glow. She had known that it was still too early for the dawn, and besides, that glow had a flickering quality to it that the rising sun would not, so she assumed that either Locke or her parents had lit bonfires to help her find her way back home.<p>

When she had gotten her bearings, she headed back toward the village. There were a few fires, but why didn't she see any people out watching them? For that matter, why had they lit the bonfires in the village proper? The flames had to be uncomfortably close to the houses. If they had been able to follow her tracks to the edge of the forest, which they certainly should have, why weren't the bonfires out here between the guard shacks and the woods? And why wasn't anyone calling for her, or at least watching for her?

As she drew closer, Muffet couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Despite the early hour, it was too quiet, especially since she had been lost in the forest all night. Everyone here took a disappearance seriously. It might be an advance attack by the Wolfs, the beginning of a raid. True, there hadn't been one in recent memory, but Muffet's papa had told her about a raid he remembered from his childhood. Where were all the townsfolk with the weapons and the shields that every villager learned to wield?

A stench assaulted Muffet's nose, part burnt meat, part scorched cloth, part outhouse – what had happened here? Terrified, Muffet broke into a run. What she saw when she got close enough was so terrible that at first, her mind refused to make sense of it, as if her subconscious was trying to protect her from the sheer horror of it all.

There were bodies everywhere. All of them had been at least half-eaten, some were almost completely consumed. None remained untouched. The houses that had caught fire sent a flickering light across the terrible scene, making it look like some demonic torture chamber.

Muffet saw Hiram, Betsy's soon-to-be husband, with his stomach torn out. Wolfs had been here! She was suddenly startled by a high-pitched sound, something between a moan and a scream. It took her several moments of turning in hurried circles, trying to see in every direction at once, before she realized that the sound was coming from her.

It was a scared, helpless sound, and although she hated herself for making it, Muffet couldn't make the sound stop. There was a sword next to Hiram's hand. She took it, finding a shield next to someone so ravaged she could not tell who it had been. The corpse had been female judging by the tattered remnants of a dress, and from its size, it was an older girl or an adult woman.

It. The corpse. Maybe if she didn't think of them as people, didn't think of them as her friends and neighbors, it would be easier to function. But when she suddenly saw that the few strands of hair not drenched in blood were blond, she gasped. Her eyes went to the girl's feet, where, sure enough, one shoe had been laced with an orange ribbon and the other with a brown one, the two ribbons she had, at first, refused from her suitor. Tara! She had been so proud that her intended had kept working, trying to better himself for her sake. When she had finally accepted those last two ribbons, she had declared that she would wear them as a badge of pride. Not pride in herself, but pride that the man she loved wanted to be a better person.

Muffet couldn't stop staring. Suddenly, she fell to the ground and threw up. Not having eaten since twilight the previous evening, it was mostly bile, and it burned like fire. She was crying uncontrollably, and she couldn't recall when her nose had started to run.

When she finally got up again, Muffet tried not to look at the bodies. Tried not to see the carnage. Once she had re-armed herself, she realized that she would have to search the village to see if anyone had survived.

* * *

><p>Exhausted and covered in soot and dirt, and even some blood, Muffet collapsed by a stream running through one of her father's pastures. The cows had all been eaten as well. She had searched every house. No one had made it to their hidden basement shelters. Not even the children! The mayor had tried to protect some of the children, but he, too, had been overwhelmed. She had found no one left alive, but she had made herself go back and count. Not everyone was accounted for, but there were bloody drag marks leading away from the village. Almost at the edge of the forest, Muffet had found a handkerchief lying by the tracks. It was the one she had made for Locke as part of his birthday present.<p>

The handkerchief, stiff with drying blood, was in her hand even now. She wondered if it was Locke's blood on it, if he had been alive when he dropped it. About a quarter of the villagers had been dragged off, it seemed. She assumed they were being saved for later. Only a small corner of the linen remained an unstained blue, the color of sapphires. Locke's favorite color. The unstained corner was not the one where she had painstakingly embroidered the letter L within a pattern of stargazer lilies, Muffet's favorite flower. Covered in blood, the colors of the embroidery floss were lost.

Muffet lay there and wept. There had been three dead Wolfs in her home, and more throughout the village, but the Wolfs, like the filthy animals they were, had eaten their own dead, along with her Mama and Papa, and Betsy too. She rolled onto her side and rocked, sobbing. They were dead, they were all dead. True, they hadn't died without a fight, but from the sheer number of Wolf tracks, and from how many people had been eaten where they fell, it was a huge attack. Bigger than any in the history of the village.

She kept seeing flashes of the carnage. Hiram, with his stomach eaten out of him. Tara, devoured. Fat little Enid, who had apparently managed to kill a Wolf with her short spear. Mama. Papa. Betsy. She was almost glad she hadn't had to see Locke like that. She wasn't sure she could have handled that, not on top of seeing everyone else. No, it was better that he would die elsewhere, or perhaps already had. Just as long as she never again had to see the mangled, partially-eaten corpse of someone she cared about.

Her throat was raw from the smoke, from the number of times her stomach had tried to empty itself, and from the screaming and weeping she hadn't been able to contain as she found butchered remains of her friends and family. What could she do now? What could one scrawny sixteen-year-old girl possibly do?

* * *

><p>Muffet stood at attention, being very careful to hold her spear at just the right angle. She had made it through the basic training that all young men had to go through just to earn the right for the prince's consideration. No one got into the army without Prince Andrew's approval.<p>

The prince walked along the line of young men who had successfully completed the three-month training course. He stopped in front of Muffet, softly saying, "Come with me, soldier."

He led her to the far side of the training field. "Did you think we wouldn't know?" His voice was soft, but it was neither kind nor cruel. It was almost emotionless.

"Sire?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound deep.

"The men who train our hopeful youth are not fools, young lady." Even Andrew's face showed nothing. Muffet gritted her teeth. Young lady, indeed! He was only three years older than her!

She had tried to go through accepted methods of getting revenge on the Wolfs. She had begged and received audience with King Tristan, but although he claimed to sympathize, he had told her that the Wolfs had been particularly active lately, and that the army had its hands full protecting those citizens who were still alive. There was no time and not enough personnel, the king had said, to hunt down that large a band of Wolfs for the mere sake of revenge. She had tried to point out that this band of Wolfs, being so large, was probably responsible for many of the raids that the army was trying to repel, but the king had already dismissed her and moved on to the next person.

So Muffet had bound her small breasts and entered one of the army's training camps. They only taught the basics of weaponry here, so it wasn't much more than Muffet had already learned as a child, in preparation to defend her village if need be, but because she already knew so much, she had been a sure thing to pass. Everyone had said so. She had bathed only at night, in complete darkness, and had never removed her jacket during practice, no matter how hot it was.

"You're the one who asked my brother for help avenging your village, aren't you?" Andrew's face was still mostly impassive, but Muffet thought she saw a hint of compassion in his eyes.

"I don't want your pity," she said angrily, before she remembered who she was talking to. "Sire."

"Pity comes with the implication of condescension, and I can assure that I am not being condescending. I lost my father to the Wolfs, and nearly lost my brother as well." Sadness touched his features, but was quickly smoothed away. Muffet didn't know it, but Andrew had carefully positioned them so that none of the other hopefuls could see her face. He didn't want to shame her in front of them, even though he wasn't sure she really considered herself part of the group.

Before Muffet could interject, Andrew put a hand on her shoulder in a comradely gesture, saying, "I understand that my pain pales in comparison to yours. You have lost everyone you've ever known, and I cannot begin to imagine what that feels like. But you have to understand one thing: those of us who do not share your suffering can never fully comprehend how you feel. People who have suffered less than you may think their pain just as deep, simply because they don't understand. We are only human. Our own pain often seems, to the individual, to equal or even eclipse anyone else's pain. 'Tis simply human nature."

"You are wise, Sire," Muffet said, her eyes filling with tears.

"But the fact remains that I cannot let a woman join my army. This is a man's job." Andrew was finding it hard to keep his face so still. He wanted to weep for this poor girl, who had come so far and risked so much. Some courts still handed out death penalties for perjury in joining an army training camp.

"No, please! I have to avenge them! They can't all have died for nothing! I can help hunt them down, I can!" Muffet grasped one of Andrew's sleeves. The only thing that kept her from throwing herself to ground and begging him was the fact that she knew, from this short conversation, that it wouldn't help her case any; in fact, it would probably make him less likely to change his mind.

"If you go after them alone, you will be killed," Andrew said gently. "But even though I suspect that you will do just that, I cannot allow a woman to become a soldier in my army. It is forbidden." He glanced around quickly, to make sure no one had approached them. "But I can give you a name. He may be able to help you find a way to get your revenge. All I ask is this: tell no one where you learned of him. I have only heard stories, myself, but my brother speaks of him with such venom. Just the mention of this man's name is prohibited by my brother." He wanted to lean close enough to whisper in her ear, but worried about how that would look to the trainers and the hopefuls standing across the field. He didn't want anyone to know that he was breaking his brother's decree. "His name is…Rumpelstiltskin. But I hear he has a way of charging the most painful price a person can pay, so beware."

"Nothing can compare with the pain I've already suffered," Muffet said, unable to keep the scorn from her voice.

"If anyone can find something worse, it will be him," Andrew replied. "By the way, what is your name?"

"Muffet," she said, blushing slightly. Here in the world outside her sheltered village, it seemed a silly name to have. She almost felt like a little girl again, with the boys singing that silly song at her. Tears sprang to her eyes. She almost wished she could hear them making fun of her again. She felt she could handle any amount of teasing if only she could get everyone back, or undo the past. But that was impossible.

"My men have readied a horse and provisions for you, Muffet, so I must ask you to leave my training grounds." Andrew met her eyes for a long moment. "I wish you well, brave Muffet."

Muffet gave a passable bow. "Thank you, your Highness," she said in formal tones.

"Please, call me Andrew."

"Andrew. Thank you. For… everything." Muffet suddenly felt no shame for the tears running down her face. The prince showed nothing but compassion.

"Godspeed, Muffet."

* * *

><p>Upon calling this Mr. Johnson, Matilda got his shop's answering machine, so she left a message and drove out that way. Over the door hung a large sign that read "Herbs and Natural Remedies" in large letters. Smaller letters beneath read, "C. Johnson, Proprietor. There was also a smaller sign under it proclaiming "Exotic Teas!" and "Occult Supplies!" There was a piece of paper taped in the window, saying that he had stepped out for a bit and would be back soon. After sitting around waiting for a few minutes, she decided to do a little impromptu advertising.<p>

Matilda grabbed a handful of her business cards and started walking down the street. She stepped into every business she passed, including Granny's, which was down the street and around the corner from Johnson's shop. Wherever possible, she tried to speak to the owners if she could, hoping that it would maximize her results.

Before long, she had walked far enough that she could see Mr. Gold's pawn shop. Her steps slowed for a moment, but then she steeled her nerves and marched right up to the door, entering the building with only the slightest hesitation.

There was a heavy-set young woman with red hair cleaning the mirror of a lovely antique dresser. She looked up and smiled at Matilda, but didn't greet her. Perhaps Gold wasn't here, if his employee was treating customers so casually.

Before Matilda could ask, the man himself stepped out of the back room. She swallowed, hard, before collecting herself. "Hello, my name is Matilda, and I'd just like to give you my business card. We exterminate pests, and due to the fact that there's been so much rain recently, a lot of the insects have made their way indoors. So if you have any problem with pests, please give us a call!"

"Well, I haven't had any problems, but thank you for stopping in." Gold's words sounded friendly enough, but his tone made it clear that this was a dismissal. The red-haired woman seemed to shrink in on herself. She kept doing her job, but her movements were more careful, more measured.

Matilda swallowed hard. She really just wanted to turn around and walk out the door. Quickly. But the moment she admitted that to herself, her pride wouldn't let her do it. "I'm glad to hear that, but it seems like this problem is only going to get worse before it gets better. Please, take my card."

Gold's eyes flicked to the red-head. "Paige," he said to her, "why don't you run upstairs and make us a nice cup of Earl Grey?" She nodded, taking the bottle of glass cleaner with her as she went through the back room. She seemed relieved to be given an excuse to get away from Gold's ire, but maybe Matilda was just projecting her own nervousness onto the woman.

Silence reigned for a moment. Matilda lowered her voice to say, "By the way, I know it's none of my business, but just smiling isn't exactly the best way to greet a customer. She didn't even say 'hello,' let alone ask if she could help me with anything." At the look on Gold's face, Matilda put her hands up, palms outward, in a conciliatory gesture. "I'm sorry. Like I said, none of my business. Forget I –"

Gold cut her off. "Paige is mute. She couldn't say hello to my customers if she wanted to. But you're not exactly a customer, are you? Maybe you should run along and tend to your own… business." The twist to his mouth, as if he'd tasted something bad, made it clear that he had a very low opinion of her, or at least of her line of work.

Matilda reached forward with one of her cards in her hand. Stubbornly wanting to insist simply because he had made his distaste so clear, she intended to tuck the card into the breast pocket of Gold's suit, but his challenging stare was too much for her, so she lowered her hand and laid the card on the counter by Gold's old-fashioned register. "Just… ah… feel free to give us a call. If you notice any… problems. With bugs." Her voice shook slightly.

She swallowed again, forcing herself to turn slowly and walk sedately away. If she was moving very quickly by the time she got to the door, almost running, it was only because she had realized that she still had a client to see this morning. Yeah, that was it. Whats-his-name might have returned from his errand to find her truck parked outside with no sign of her. That was why she was rushing out so fast.

* * *

><p>When Matilda got back to her truck, she just had time to put her business cards away before a tall man with dark hair walked up the street. He was wearing jeans with a somewhat rumpled dress shirt and even more rumpled suit jacket. The sneakers on his feet had once been white, but now they were maybe a few months away from sprouting holes. There was no tie. Matilda was somewhat amused by his outfit, but even at a glance, she could tell that he had dressed to please no one but himself.<p>

She somehow wasn't surprised when he introduced himself as Mr. Johnson. As she followed him into his herb and remedy shop, she couldn't help but notice that, despite the seeming clutter of both places, and also in spite of the Ouija boards and other semi-creepy New-Age paraphernalia she was passing just now, Johnson's shop seemed somehow homier, or at least a bit more welcoming than the pawnshop. Of course, Johnson seemed like a much… _nicer_ man than Gold.

* * *

><p>Muffet sat on the steps outside of Rumpelstiltskin's castle. It had taken a few months to find her way here, and she still wasn't entirely sure how she'd done it. But now that she was here, she was having a hard time working up the courage to knock.<p>

Somewhere along the way, she had realized that it was her fault that her village had been destroyed. If she had been at her post, she would have seen the Wolfs approaching, she could have warned them. Yes, people still would have died, but at least some of her friends and neighbors would have made it to their shelters. In the end, it was this thought that gave her the willpower to stand up and knock on the door of the Dark Castle.

That door opened silently. Muffet walked in, a little hesitantly. There was a large table with a floral centerpiece in the entryway. When the door slammed shut behind her, Muffet whirled, her heart in her throat. She let out a little whimper as she realized that there was no one behind that door. She was alone in the room.

Just as she started to wonder if she should wait here or look around, she noticed a little man with dusky gold skin leaning against the archway that led into the rest of the castle. Muffet jumped. When had he gotten there? He hadn't been there a moment ago.

"What can I do for you, dearie," the little man asked, smirking like he knew a secret. And whatever secret he knew, it was clearly going to make someone very uncomfortable. Muffet suddenly remembered Prince Andrew's warning about Rumpelstiltskin's prices.

She opened her mouth, but her voice failed her. She swallowed and tried again, but to no avail.

"You look ridiculous like that, you know," Rumpelstiltskin said. In his eyes, she saw his disdain for her.

Having been teased a lot as a child, Muffet never reacted well to anything that smacked of bullying, and the impish man's mockery set off her stubborn temper. "I didn't come here to be treated like dirt," she said. She was still terrified, but for now, that wasn't important.

"Well then, what _did_ you come here for, dearie?" Rumpelstiltskin gave her a toothy grin that looked almost feral.

"I – I need your help." It galled her to have to ask for his help, because he was treating her so rudely, but as Andrew had said, he was probably the only person who could help her. "I need to know how to kill Wolfs."

"Did you say, wolves?" The vile little man smirked deviously.

"No! I said, Wolfs. Those creatures that dwell in the Wolfswood alongside King Tristan's lands. They are foul abominations, and they destroyed my village! I need to know how to kill them!" Muffet's rage contorted her face.

"I see," Rumpelstiltskin said. He had known all along why she had come, but he did enjoy toying with people. It was so easy to push their buttons. "This way." He gestured for Muffet to follow him.

When they had reached the main room of his castle, with its long table and the spinning wheel in one corner, Rumpelstiltskin went to the corner opposite the large spinning wheel and picked up an old, dusty battle axe. It had a handle almost as long as Muffet was tall, and the twin blades at the top still looked wickedly sharp even under their coating of dust. Above the crescent-shaped blades, a sharp spike crested the handle, sticking up almost a foot above the tips of the blades. At their widest point, those blades measured almost half again the width Muffet's somewhat narrow shoulders. It looked heavy, but Rumpelstiltskin handled it as if it were as light as a feather.

He tossed it to the slender girl, who almost dropped it. Not from the weight of the weapon, although it turned out to be very heavy indeed, but because she was startled to have a deadly weapon just tossed at her like that. Despite the weight, Muffet held the axe with little effort. Aside from having been trained in weapons as a child, in order to repel a Wolf attack if need be, Muffet had recently completed the basic army training. One of their many training procedures was to have the students fight with weapons that had been weighted to an almost outrageous degree, or at other times, to fight with weights strapped to their wrists, waists, and ankles. Slight as she was, Muffet was definitely stronger than she looked.

"I've never even seen an axe like this before," Muffet said. She knew how to use small throwing axes, but the only long-handled axes she had come across had only one blade, and she'd never learned how to use them. The spike on the end was new to her, although she had heard the tales of a hero who had wielded an axe with a spike on it. His axe had had only one blade, and the handle had not been much longer than the handle of a blacksmith's hammer. In fact, some of the tales claimed that this hero had started out as a blacksmith.

"If you can master that axe, it will not fail you. You will defeat any opponents you face, even if they out-number you." His smirk had a hint of mockery to it.

"Can you teach me how to use it?" Muffet didn't want to spend any more time with this foul creature than she already had, but the lure of revenge was strong. She felt she could tolerate just about anything if it would help her get her vengeance.

"Oh, not I," Rumpelstiltskin asserted, sounding almost surprised that she would ask him that. "There is a hermit in the woods. Right now, he is quite close to the ruins of your village, actually." There was a glint in his eyes that Muffet didn't like. It was purely evil, as well as knowing. She wondered it this hermit had an unpleasant personality, or some hideous deformity. "You'll have to find him if you wish to learn how to wield that monstrosity."

"Will he still be near my village by the time I get back there?" There was a hint of panic to Muffet's tone; if this hermit moved around, as seemed to be the implication, she might search for years and never find him. It had taken a few months to get here, although the exact details of the journey still seemed a bit hazy in Muffet's memory.

"Oh, you'll have no trouble finding him, Little Miss Muffet." Rumpelstiltskin's smile was almost more a baring of teeth, although there was a mocking kind of amusement to it.

Her face contorted with anger, and she rushed at him, swinging the axe up over her head in a wide arc. She was aiming for that foul, smirking mouth of his. He just watched, an amused expression on his face. When the axe was a hairsbreadth away from his head, it stopped. Making sounds of pure frustration, Muffet pushed and shoved at the handle, trying to cleave that smirk in half.

"No use trying to defeat me, dearie. Even after you've learnt to use that little toy. You see, by coming to me for help, you've acknowledged me as an ally rather than an opponent." Muffet was still struggling with the motionless axe, but Rumpelstiltskin had now walked around it, putting his face close to hers. "Besides, dearie," he added sinisterly, "I gave you that axe, and I can take it away just as easily." He gave a dry little laugh. "Now, as to your payment." He walked around behind her, eyeing her up and down. His gaze was so greedy that Muffet was a little afraid of what he might want. She was surprised when he finally said, "You don't need a bloody old handkerchief, do you? Why keep something that's been ruined? In return for both the axe and the information on how to learn its use, I'll be so kind as to take that filthy thing off your hands."

Muffet felt her eyes prickle with tears. The handkerchief she had made for Locke? Why would he want that? It was all she had left of the man she loved! It wasn't even as if the embroidery was particularly fine; Muffet's skills in that area were nicely competent, but that was all. She was no artistic genius with the needle. "Why?" she asked.

"Why I want it is my own business, and none of yours. All you need to know is that the handkerchief is my price. And I do think it a rather generous offer; I've given you an axe _and_ information, but I'm asking only one price." He watched Muffet's face without bothering to hide his glee at her distress. Then he put out a hand as if to take the axe back. "Well, dearie, if you don't want it…"

"No!" Muffet cried. "I – I'll pay!" She gave one choking breath that was almost a sob before she could stop herself. After a few deep breaths, she was able to at least pretend to be calm, although she couldn't think why she bothered. This vile little man knew things; he wouldn't be fooled by her outward calm.

Taking one hand off the axe handle, Muffet drew the stiff linen square out of her belt pouch. Her hand shook as she stared at it one last time, trying to memorize it. She jumped slightly when Rumpelstiltskin's waiting hand intruded on her line of sight. He didn't try to take it from her; that wouldn't be as much fun as forcing her to hand it over of her own free will. He enjoyed making people face the things they least wanted to face, and give up the things they held most dear. Only by doing that could one get the true measure of a person's character.

He snickered at the look on her face as she finally let go of the handkerchief. Then he turned and walked away from Muffet, who stood with one hand on the axe, the other still stretched out as if she still held the handkerchief.

Only when Rumpelstiltskin had crossed to the table in the middle of the room did the axe come loose. Muffet tried not to let her fear show. She should have known, from all she'd heard about him, that Rumpelstiltskin could make the blade of an axe become stuck in thin air. She just stared at the imp, who was nonchalantly pouring himself a cup of tea, ostentatiously giving her his back. But she knew that his seeming helplessness was only an illusion.

"Begone with you. Find the hermit and get your so-precious revenge." Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand in an idle dismissal, never so much as glancing in Muffet's direction as she all-but fled his castle.

* * *

><p>In the two and half months it took for Muffet to find her way home again, a new year had started. Muffet's 17th birthday was barely a month away; she couldn't believe that it hadn't even been a full year yet since the attack. It seemed like longer. It also seemed like yesterday. It was a strange feeling, but Muffet was too busy searching for the hermit to give it much thought.<p>

When she finally found him, she knew she'd been right. He was a cranky man who wouldn't uncover his face, so clearly he was both disfigured _and_ unpleasant. Part of her hoped that she could learn the axe quickly, but for the most part, she didn't care how long it took. Just so long as she could kill Wolfs, nothing else mattered. With this axe in her hands, she might even be able to wipe them from the face of the earth.

* * *

><p>Before leaving work, Paige stopped to have a word with Mr. Gold. <strong>I just wanted to let you know, Mike's going to a friend's house tonight to play poker. He's not sure how late he'll be. Ruby's taking me out to the club, so I'll probably be out late, too. But if Mike's not going to be back for a while after I get home, I might need to text you.<strong>

"Really? I didn't know Michael played poker." Gold's expression was amused.

**Well, he's hanging out with Mark, the guy who found his car when he had wrecked? **Paige made it a question. When Gold nodded, she continued. **Well, apparently they were best friends as children, but lost touch. So they're… reconnecting, I guess.**

Paige tried to keep her sadness from her face. It wasn't that she resented Mike trying to reconnect with an old friend, but lately Mike had been spending most of his free time with Mark. She had barely seen Mike since the fight. She often cried herself to sleep worrying about the wedge forming between her and Mike.

"Well, it's good that they found each other again, isn't it?" No matter how well Paige hid her emotions, Gold was empathetic enough to sense them anyway. He knew how upset Paige was by this turn of events. He just enjoyed pushing her buttons.

**Oh, yeah, **Paige signed. But she didn't look like she was happy for Mike. She just looked a bit lost. **Anyway, **she signed, taking a deep breath as she changed the subject, **I might… need you… tonight.** She hated saying that. It sounded like some sort of innuendo, but she couldn't think of any other way to phrase it. She blushed. **But it'll probably be late.**

"Oh, that's no problem, Paige. I enjoy spending time with you at any hour." His smirk left no doubt that his statement was intended as innuendo, making Paige flush even darker.

Paige's main reason for blushing at that innuendo was that in some deep, dark part of herself, she kind of hoped she _did_ have to text Mr. Gold tonight.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "What Happened to Frederick."

The May Day celebration in Muffet's village is loosely based on the tradition of the Maypole and the pagan holiday of Beltane.

Yes, Muffet's intended is named Locke in tribute to the show "Lost."

The anonymous axe-wielding hero Muffet thinks of is a nod to Robert Jordan's "Wheel of Time" novels. One of the main characters, Perrin, is a blacksmith-turned-hero who carries a battle axe of similar description. **I do not own any rights to Robert Jordan's work, nor am I in away way affiliated with the author, his estate, or the publisher of the "Wheel of Time" series.**

Well, there you have it, the "true" story of Little Miss Muffet! Hope you enjoyed it, and don't worry, we'll see her again.

Please review!


	14. S1 Ch14 - Poor Little Rich Girl

As usual, I do not own this wonderful show or the characters created by ABC.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Farmer John had a fine milk cow,<br>But one bright day said he, "How now?  
>How now to get the things I lack,<br>To win a life of restful slack?"

Now this brown cow, her milk was sweet;  
>To taste it was the finest treat.<br>"What we need for ourselves, we'll keep;  
>Sell the rest, the profits to reap!"<p>

This was sound advice from his wife,  
>But John just lounged and played his fife.<br>"That smacks of work, oh Wife," said he,  
>"Idle is all I want to be."<p>

All of John's neighbors, they did come;  
>The cow sold for a worthy sum.<br>And in John's heart there was just this:  
>The joy brought on by idle bliss<p>

Now idle is as idle does;  
>John's well-trimmed beard grew to a fuzz.<br>His fields lay fallow; silent, too,  
>Except when John had too much brew.<p>

His wife grew lean, his children sad  
>As John spent everything they had.<br>One day John woke to nothing left,  
>And said, "Why, Wife, am I bereft?<p>

All my fine things, I cannot find,  
>Where be they at?" the idler whined.<br>"Your children were crying for food,"  
>Said she; "your wife begins to brood."<p>

But Farmer John, he listened not,  
>And simply downed another pot.<br>His ale grew low; he called once more,  
>But only heard the slamming door.<p>

His wife had left him there alone,  
>To find her children a new home.<br>The things he bought had all been sold,  
>And of a sudden, John felt old.<p>

So Farmer John, he lost it all,  
>Because his heart was held in thrall.<br>He did not care for what he had,  
>And lost it all, which was too bad.<p>

_~A popular nursery rhyme, particularly in the lands where King Rolph once ruled._

* * *

><p>"Never call me sister!" The young woman's brilliant green eyes flared with anger. Norah looked sadly into those eyes, realizing for the first time that they were the same color as her own.<p>

"But I am, Ember. It's not my fault that none of us knew." Norah tried to be soothing, but she didn't have Robert's temper. Instead of getting angry at Ember, as he would have done, Norah tried to plead with her, and always turned the other cheek.

"Can you honestly blame a woman for trying to do the right thing for her family?" Ember was scornful. After years of fighting with Robert, Ember found she couldn't stand Norah's passive approach. "And not just that, but the right thing for her kingdom, something you yourself seem awfully passionate about just lately."

"How is abandoning your child to poverty the right thing for any family?" Norah's tone was still mild, but with a slight edge to it. This was something she had struggled with ever since she had learned the truth. Why _would_ a mother do such a thing, even if the child could never rule the kingdom? They could always have more children. The kingdom wouldn't suffer if the king had an older sister. True, in retrospect it turned out that after the second child, another girl, their mother had been unable to have more children. But she couldn't have known that at the time. Not unless she'd asked Rumpelstiltskin, and he claimed to have advised against the two women switching babies.

"If you hadn't convinced my brother to run away from home and switch places with you, this kingdom for which you profess so much love would have prospered." Ember would have given anything to get this usurper out of her household. True, Robert lived in a small, well-appointed cottage on the grounds of the fortress, but it just wasn't the same as having him here day in and day out.

"He's not your brother, and I didn't meet him until long after he had started running away. And perhaps he hasn't told you, but _he_ was the first one to wish that we could switch places. It was _his_ idle comment that put the idea in my mind. And because both of us wished it so hard, it drew the attention of a certain… individual." Norah's voice was no longer quite as mild as it been, but she was still hoping that Ember would warm to her if she was nice to the girl.

"I don't care who came up with the idea. You should never have tried to reach above your station in this world," hissed Ember.

"If you can be bothered to recall, we have the same parents. My station is the same as yours," Norah retorted, trying so hard to keep the anger from her voice. But she just wasn't very good at handling anger. She had never met anyone who could irritate her this much, so she didn't have much practice in dealing with anger.

"You are a pauper!" screeched Ember. "I am descended from kings!"

"As am I!" Norah's voice was rising. "But until our father made his deal, he and our mother were _also_ paupers, so get off your high horse!"

"But I was _raised_ as the heir to a great family, unlike you! You were raised in cow dung!" Ember could also see the resemblance between them, and it only made her angrier. How dare this peasant have the exact same brownish-auburn hair as her mother! Ember had always secretly wished her own hair were that color.

"Agh!" Norah couldn't hold in that noise of utter disgust. "No wonder Robert hated it here! I'd be tempted to run away, too, if I had grown up listening to that _voice_ and that appalling lack of logic! But perhaps great families aren't what they used to be when a farm-raised 'pauper' has been taught better logic than a supposed princess!"

With tears springing to her eyes, Ember screamed, "We'd all be a lot happier if you _did_ run away, farm brat!"

"Girls!" Felix stalked into the room. "You both know how ill your mother is. Carrying on like this, screaming like fishwives for everyone to hear!"

"But Father," whined Ember, her face suddenly screwed up with girlish tears, "she's been saying such awful things! She's just so… common!"

But Felix dodged his younger daughter, who was trying to snuggle herself into his arms for a hug. "Do you take me for a fool, Ember? I may not have witnessed the beginning of this altercation, but I've gotten a good measure of Norah's personality. Common she may be, but she is far more soft-spoken than some." He gave Ember a meaningful look. "If your troubles with raising your voice had started only after she had arrived, I might be more inclined to believe you. But you screamed so loudly and so often at your bro– at Robert, that is, that if I hadn't known better, I would have thought you were part banshee."

Norah and Ember both shuddered. "Father," Ember sniffled, "please, don't ever compare me to such awful creatures." She twined a strand of her hair around her fingers. It was the same shade of blonde as her father's, and not something they had inherited from Fiero's lineage. The green eyes, however, were said to have been a family trait for generations before Fiero's father, Rolph, was ever born. But the eyes were the kind of trait that had sometimes skipped a few generations, while at other times no child of their family was born without the green eyes.

His voice was still mild, but very serious, as he replied, "Then perhaps you'd best stop trying to sound like one."

Ember finally gave up trying for her father's sympathy. "Hmph," she snorted, then flounced away without another word.

Felix sighed after her. "Looking for her mother to complain what an unkind lout I am, no doubt." He gave a small, mirthless laugh. Then he turned to Norah. "I know you do your best, but please try to remember that she's thought of Robert as her brother her whole life. Even though she fought with him, she knew he was blood." An odd look of mingled sadness, regret, and anger passed over Felix's face. "Well, she thought she knew."

Norah, feeling guilty that she had let her temper rise so easily, lowered her eyes and said, "The only easy way to live a lie is if you don't even know that there is one." She felt haunted, both by her own experiences in lying to the people of the village near her farm, and by learning that she had never even belonged on that farm in the first place. She wanted so badly to go back there, to at least see her farmhands one more time, but her new-found father didn't want any more scandal. His support for the throne had all-but disappeared, but he had hopes that, once Robert and Norah were married and had produced an heir, the family could still have a chance to turn this war-torn kingdom around.

But Norah had insisted that she had no intention of marrying Robert. Felix was trying to bring her around slowly, so he kept Robert nearby in the hopes that she would eventually see that Robert, while spoiled, was a good man at heart. Norah didn't know it, but this was another reason that Felix didn't want Norah to see her farmhands again. He strongly suspected that she had feelings for one of them.

"I wish they liked me," Norah said softly, referring to the mother and sister she had never known she had.

Felix turned to face her, gently wiping a tear from her cheek in a fatherly, if somewhat awkward, gesture. "There, now, my girl. Just give them time. Time will cure it, you'll see. Once they know you better, they can't help but love you."

"But even you don't love me… father." The word still felt strange on Norah's tongue.

Meeting her eyes, Felix spoke very seriously. "Love takes time, as well, my dear, but look at the bright side: I already like you quite a lot, and that's a good step toward love." Norah didn't look particularly uplifted by his comment, so he added, "I think there's something you need to try. Growing up in poverty, you may not even have heard of it," he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the kitchens. "I think you'll like it. It's called iced cream."

* * *

><p>Sitting on his brother's couch, Noah saw Paige's form through the window as she came home from work. She hesitated, turning toward Mike's side of the duplex as if she would come and knock on his door. But her shoulders slumped, her hand went to her upper stomach in what looked like a nervous gesture of some sort, and she walked away, heading for her own door.<p>

"What are you going to do about her," Noah asked his brother.

"What do you mean?" asked Mike, sounding sullen, trying to pretend that he hadn't also been watching.

Noah sighed. "You won't even tell me what the fight was about. Can it really be that bad? She loves you, Mike, I can see it, even if you can't. If you could just make up with her, you'd have a great thing going on."

Mike folded his arms across his chest and refused to even look at Noah.

"For crying out loud, Michael!" Noah stood up and started pacing. "Look, unless she tortures puppies to death in her spare time, or stabs little old ladies through the eyes with their own knitting needles, Paige is the best thing that's ever happened to you! I remember, back when you first started teaching her, you used come away from Mr. Gold's house with a big, doofy smile on your face. And not just because you were teaching, Mike. It was because of _her_. Because she's wonderful."

"What do _you_ know about her," Mike said, his voice dripping with scorn. He almost wanted to tell Noah that Paige was sleeping with Gold, just to wipe that concerned, exasperated look off his brother's face. Just to see what he would think of that. But he had made a promise. Somehow, having given his word made him itch to tell someone. Until Gold had manipulated that promise out of him, he would never have dreamed of telling anyone.

"I just told you, bro, I know how happy she made you. Do you realize that, after she moved in over there, you just… _stopped_ whining about your job? I mean, I know it's not something you want to be doing for the rest of your life, but look at it this way, you're twenty-five years old and you're the stock manager. And speaking of which, did you notice that you didn't get that promotion until _after _Paige moved in? She's good for you, Mike. And my son loves her, too." Noah laughed. "He calls her 'Peacock Paige,' only half the time he forgets how to pronounce it and still says 'Peek-on.' He adores her, and she's only been over once. Most kids his age tend to forget people they've only met a time or two. And Fawn says you were glowing at dinner that night. Her word, not mine," Noah said, putting up a hand to forestall any protests. "You know she's always right about that sort of thing."

When Noah put a hand on Mike's shoulder, Mike pulled away, but not as roughly as he might have. Noah recognized it as a good sign that he was getting through to his brother.

"Look, just give her second chance, okay? I'm not saying it has to last forever, although I really think it could, with her." Noah grabbed his coat. "Just think about it, please." He came over to give Mike a hug, which Mike did not dodge. Another good sign. "I have to go, Fawn will have dinner ready soon."

"Bye, Noah," Mike managed to choke out. He was glad his brother was leaving, because he was feeling emotional. He didn't want Noah to see him cry.

"See you, Mike," Noah said, shutting the door behind himself. He shook his head as he crossed the porch. He wished he knew why Mike was being so stubborn.

* * *

><p>Sammi clutched Mark's hand. "Mark, do we have to? You know how your mother feels about me."<p>

"I know," Mark said, "But we have to show her just how serious we are. I think once she realizes that this is a done deal, she'll start to accept you. Jade, too," he added, referring to his younger sister. Mark comforted his fiancée more out of habit than anything else. He hadn't told anyone, but he wasn't sure he wanted to marry Sammi after all. He couldn't remember what had ever possessed him to propose to her.

Far too deep in her own doubts, Sammi didn't notice that anything was wrong with the way Mark was treating her lately. She couldn't think why she had ever said yes, and it had nothing to do with his mother and sister not liking her. She wanted their approval, their affection, more than anything else in the world, although she didn't know why that would matter to her since she was wondering if there was any way to break off this engagement without hurting Mark. Perhaps it was because everyone commented that she almost looked like she belonged in Mark's family.

Sammi's eyes were the exact shade of green that Jade had inherited from her father, and her hair was the same pale, brownish-auburn that was just beginning to turn to grey on Mark's mother. Jade had her father's blond hair, but Mark's own hair, darker than his mother's, was more brown than auburn. His eyes were a grey that didn't match anyone else's, and even with his similar facial features, he looked more like Jade's cousin than her brother. Sometimes people assumed that Sammi and Mark were either siblings or cousins, although occasionally someone asked if they were fraternal twins. Ironically enough, they had been born at almost the exact same time. They were both 26, but had been in different classes at school, so they hadn't really interacted very much. But it was odd; Sammi couldn't remember how they had eventually become friends.

But here they both were, about to ask Mark's mother for a list of addresses for their wedding invitations. Of course, they would have to find a venue, but Sammi felt that they should have some idea of many people they wanted to invite so they could try to find a suitable venue in their budget. If they had to go with something smaller, they would have to winnow down the list, but for now, Sammi was determined to try to invite everyone. She didn't want to alienate Mark's mother by eliminating anyone from his side of the family, so this was the solution she had come up with. She hoped it would work.

She hadn't even been dress shopping yet. Her new friend Mat, short for Matilda, was threatening to drag her to a bridal shop. She had met Matilda about a week and a half ago, when she had called the young woman's extermination service. All those huge spiders in her house had been too much, and she had become paranoid that there was some kind of nest under her house. Matilda had reassured her that it was just the wet weather, and somehow the two of them had immediately hit it off. Matilda was actually 22, the same age as Jade, but although they'd gone to the same school, Matilda didn't remember Sammi's soon-to-be sister-in-law at all.

Her heart pounding in her throat, Sammi said, "Alright, Mark. Let's do it."

He squeezed her hand, smiling at her. He wished he knew how to tell her that he had come to realize that he didn't love her.

* * *

><p>Paige found it soothing to make dinner. She had always enjoyed cooking. It was one of the few stereotypically feminine pastimes that she liked.<p>

In spite of the situation, she still made sure that there was always enough food for Mike. She could always take the leftovers to work the next day, which she had done quite a lot recently.

She set the table in the dining area for one. Her kitchen _could_ have fit a tiny table, just barely, and one chair, but it wouldn't leave much room to move around. Even though she was eating so many meals alone, she wasn't sure it would be worth it. Although if she did decide to put up with a severely cramped kitchen, she wouldn't have to sit here at her dinner table, where she not only had spent so many pleasant meals with Mike, but where Mr. Gold had… had his way with her after that dinner party. Paige blushed just thinking about it.

As she sat down to eat, there was a knock at the door. Her first irrational thought was of Gold, and she felt the heat rising in her cheeks again. But it wasn't time for him to have closed his shop yet this evening, so it couldn't be him. As she headed for the door, Paige tried to tell herself that there was no point in being so hopeful, since Mike hadn't shown any signs of forgiving her just yet, but she couldn't help herself.

When she opened the door, her heart leaped into her throat. It was Mike.

* * *

><p>Robert embraced Felix, murmuring, "Father!"<p>

Felix pulled back, smiling. "Don't let the women hear you calling me that, my boy. And never let on that I said it, but by the gods, it's good to hear you say that!"

"I never should have run away, Father. I'm so sorry." Robert's face was serious. If he could have been content with what he had, he might have been a prince by now.

"What's done is done, my son." Felix had been angry with Robert at first, but he had raised this young man as his son, and no matter what the truth was, he still _felt_ like Robert was his son. "Now we just need to move forward. You need to woo Norah."

"But Father, she has refused to marry me," Robert protested. "She barely even deigns to acknowledge my presence whenever I visit!"

"Look, my boy, unless you want all the lessons I've taught you to be for naught, you will have to marry this wretched farm-girl." Only here in the cottage, alone with his son, could Felix express his true thoughts. "She is a whiny, sniveling creature, I know, but I suppose she can't help how she was raised. Usually a farm-girl is not so spineless, especially one who's had to make her own way in the world, but there you have it."

Robert laughed, and it was not a very nice laugh. "I'll bet Ember is making our poor Farmer Jane miserable," he said. The old "Farmer John" nursery rhyme ran through his head. Ironically enough, it was about a farmer who had been dissatisfied with what he had.

"I thought it was bad when _you_ and Ember fought," Felix said, looking both rueful and amused at the same time. "And you know Norah, always trying to turn the other cheek. But 'tis not so easy with Ember harping on her all the time."

Saying this reminded Felix of the argument he had stopped yesterday. "I know now that you're not my blood," he said to Robert, his face serious, "but my heart speaks otherwise, and so I will tell you what I have told no one else but your mother. I will have to tell Norah eventually, but I want you to hear it first."

"What is it, Father?" Robert couldn't quite get the measure of Felix's face. He looked serious and grave, perhaps this was bad news.

"How much do you know about banshees?" Felix watched as Robert swallowed.

"Well, Father," Robert answered, his voice a little rough, "they are harbingers of death. Hideous spirits that bewail the coming of tragedy. Why?"

"That is not precisely true, my son." Felix knew, on an intellectual level, that this information was irrelevant to the boy, who was not, technically, related to him. But still, Felix's heart told a different story, so he wanted to tell Robert everything. Well, almost everything. "My deal with, ah, a certain individual, was for the proof that I am descended from King Fiero's younger son. The elder son's line, as you well know, died out over seventy years ago. But our family had no proof of our royal lineage. In receiving this documentation, I was warned that I and mine would be brought to the attention of the royal banshee."

Robert, not sure he understood what Felix was getting at, shuddered at the word.

"You see, my boy, banshees were not always to be feared. Only the families whose origins were pure could claim the privilege of a banshee. King Rolph the Wise was born of one of these families. Now, as you know, his family split. Until his twin sons were born, the eldest daughter he had sired on Lanae was considered his heir, not for the throne, of course, but for his lineage. Once Firend and Fiero were born, that honor passed to Firend, the elder twin, and the daughters meant nothing to the banshee. However, the moment Firend rose up against his father, the banshee had to choose which twin was worthy of the family's honor. For you see, Rolph had been dishonorable in plotting to replace Firend as his heir, and Firend also showed dishonor by rebelling. In the end, the banshee chose Rolph's new heir, Fiero, because Rolph's crime was committed in order to ensure the continued prosperity of the kingdom, while Firend's crime was selfish. But ever since then, she has not been the same."

"The banshee once foretold not only deaths, but births. She warned of epidemics, disasters, and potential defeats. She could turn aside our enemy's blows in battle, and she would watch over the heir to the family title during his childhood. She takes upon herself the pain and despair of the entire family. When we mourn a death, no one mourns more than she, for she takes the worst part of our pain into herself, often before we even know that such grief is coming to us. That is why the banshee wails." Felix couldn't quite gauge the expression on Robert's face. "But after she made her choice, she grew grim and pale, emaciated by the bitterness of the family feud."

Here Robert spoke. "But King Rolph, Father. Did he mean to have Firend killed?"

"No one can know that for certain, my boy," Felix replied, "but our family legends tell that he sent Firend to fight the Wolfs so that Fiero could be crowned as his heir on a pretext during Firend's absence. By the time Firend came home, Fiero would be the Crown Prince and Rolph would be delighted to see his elder son alive, but unable to reverse his decision."

Robert thought hard. "Was King Rolph a good man?"

"He was a great and wise king," said Felix, "but even a good man makes decisions that can be seen as wrong, if looked at from a certain point of view. But what he did was for the sake of the kingdom."

"And even though I am not of his line, you are asking _me_ to do what's best for the kingdom by wooing and marrying Norah. Isn't that right, Father?"

Felix smiled. The boy truly was his son if he could see the necessity of this. "Yes, my son. That is what I am asking you to do. But I cannot force you."

Robert came to a sudden decision. "I will do it, Father. I will do whatever I have to, for the sake of this kingdom."

"That's my boy," Felix said, tears in his eyes.

* * *

><p>Paige just stood there for a moment, forgetting to breathe. It wasn't until Mike greeted her awkwardly, saying, "Hey, Paige," that she could get a hold of herself. She swallowed hard; Mike looked and sounded extremely uncomfortable.<p>

**Hello, Mike,** Paige signed. **Would you… like to come in? I was just sitting down for dinner, and there's plenty. **Her face was so hopeful that Mike found it almost painful.

"Oh, um, no thanks, Paige," he said. "I've already eaten." He sincerely hoped his stomach wouldn't give him away by growling now. It had been so long since he had eaten Paige's cooking.

**Oh. **Paige looked at the ground, at a loss for words for a few moments. **If you… want me to, I could package you up some leftovers. For work, or dinner tomorrow night, or whatever.**

Mike found that he couldn't resist. "Alright," he conceded, "I could take some leftovers."

**I'll get you some right now!** Paige signed, whirling around. She was so happy that she was practically dancing into the kitchen. Mike, feeling really out of place, followed her as far as the dining area, where he couldn't help but remember all the delicious meals he'd eaten here. Paige was really a very good cook.

When she emerged from the kitchen with two bowls of food in a plastic store bag, she smiled hesitantly as she handed the bag to Mike. "Thanks, Paige," he said, smiling back. It was a cautious smile, as if he were afraid to encourage her.

**Well, I hope you like it,** signed Paige, half-expecting Mike to cut and run. But with each moment that he stayed, her hope grew.

"I, um, need to ask you something, Paige." Mike was ashamed of himself for doing this, but he didn't know what else to do. "You remember Mark, right? The guy who found me after my accident?" Paige nodded, so Mike continued. "Well, he and I have been hanging out a lot lately, which I guess you already know, but anyway, he's engaged, and he wants me to meet his fiancée. And he found out that you and I were… well, going out, as far as he knows, and he wants to know if we can do a double-date. They were hoping tomorrow would work out for us?" Mike knew he was babbling, but he couldn't help it.

Tears sprang into Paige's eyes. **You want what?**

Looking thoroughly ashamed of himself, Mike repeated, "Can we go on a double date with Mark and his fiancée? Will you do that for me?"

Paige stepped away from Mike. **For almost a month now, you've barely acknowledged me. You don't talk to me, you don't come over for dinner, you can barely even force yourself to **_**look**_** at me! And now, out of the blue, you just want me to go straight back into pretending to be your girlfriend?**

Mike started to talk, but Paige made a slashing motion with her hand. **No, Mike, you don't get to talk right now. Let me have **_**my**_** say first. You know exactly how I feel about you, and you know how embarrassed I am that, in spite of my feelings for you, I find myself in bed with another man, a man I don't even love. You know I want you help me raise this child, and you promised you would. You **_**promised**_** you would always be there for me. But where have you been for the past month, Mike? Where were you when Mr. Gold was threatening to take away my freedom? Which he only did, by the way, because you apparently went to see him, to make unfair demands of him.**

Mike had the decency to look ashamed, but he tried to interrupt. But Paige made that motion again. **No, Mike. I think I know what you're going to say. But you can't just demand that Mr. Gold and I stop seeing each other. You don't even want me that way, so you have no right to be upset that I'm finding pleasure where I can. And now you want me go on a double date, and be introduced to people who are probably going to ask awkward questions about "us," and pretend that everything's okay when it's really not? You have no right to ask me this.**

After a moment, Mike realized that Paige was done. "I know," he said softly, almost whispering. "But I'm not just doing this for appearances, Paige. I've wanted to come over here a million times and tell you that, even though I hate what you're doing with Gold, I still want to be friends, if you can forgive all the horrible things I said." He stopped, swallowing hard. He wanted to tell Paige that she was right, he was afraid. But he still couldn't figure out what exactly he was afraid of.

**But have you decided? Are you going to be a father to my baby?** Paige signed.

Mike, looking embarrassed, replied, "I don't know yet. I want us to try again, to see if things can go back to how they were. I have to know where we stand before I can make that decision. I'm sorry. But please, Paige, don't give up on me. Not yet."

Paige stared at Mike for a long moment. His pain was obvious, and she just wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him. But instead she simply signed, **Okay.**

"Okay, what? Okay, you forgive me? Okay, you'll do it? What?" Mike's voice was raw with emotion.

**I'll go on this double date with you, and I'll try to forgive you, if you can try to forgive me for the things **_**I **_**said. **There were tears flowing down Paige's face as she recalled, yet again, Mike's last words to her before he left that night. _A lying, worthless slut._ Those words had hurt, and it was partly because she kind of felt like a slut. What other kind of girl would enjoy having sex with a man she had no romantic feelings for? She doubted she could ever forget those words, but with Mike standing right in front of her, looking so lost and so very ashamed of himself, she was fairly sure she could forgive him. She knew all about being ashamed of oneself.

* * *

><p>Part of the talk at dinner the following night had been about the missing woman, Kathryn Nolan. Her car had been found by the school's gym teacher, still running, but with no one in it. No one knew if she was alive or dead, but her husband had apparently been having an affair with Mary Margaret Blanchard. That had surprised Paige; she didn't think Mary Margaret seemed like a home wrecker, but she'd only met the woman once.<p>

It was more Mike's reaction that fueled Paige's disbelief. Mike had known Mary Margaret for some time, and whenever he heard anyone whisper that she might have offed her competition, Mike got angry about it. He found it hard enough to believe that she had been seeing a married man, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could never have hurt Kathryn. She was just too nice for that.

Mark and Sammi had seemed like a nice couple, although Paige's intuition told her that they weren't as close as they pretended to be. She wondered what had happened. Had they grown apart because of the Curse that had stolen everyone's happy ending? Or had they perhaps been betrothed in the world that was, and weren't even in love? Paige couldn't tell.

As she had expected, they had grilled Mike and Paige about their relationship. Paige had told Mike before they left not make up any lies. That would only lead to the possibility of being discovered in their lies, which might lead to people realizing that she and Mike were not a couple. And if people realized that, they might start asking themselves why two people would _pretend_ to be dating, what those two people might be hiding about themselves. Mike had to agree with Paige's reasoning.

All in all, the evening had gone well, but it left Paige wishing she given Mike an ultimatum about deciding to be her baby's father. The constant worry of what she was going to do, how she could possibly raise a child by herself, was taking its toll on her.

* * *

><p>Robert was surprised when Norah actually came out onto the old fort's battlements like he'd asked. Her face was hostile, though. He didn't try to move any closer to her, he just held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Look, Norah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said to you when we tried to get Rumpelstiltskin to change us back. And I'm sorry I couldn't help myself with those women when I was pretending to be you. Even with the first one, I was already missing home, hoping that there would be a way we could go back. But I was afraid. I was afraid you wouldn't want to switch back, and because I was scared, I got drunk. The peddler's wife took advantage of that. Not that I complained, I'll admit, but any drunk, scared, lonely man will gladly give in to a pretty woman who offers something that will take his mind off his problems." He paused for a moment. "But I still shouldn't have done it."<p>

Norah's face had softened during Robert's apology. "No, you shouldn't have. But there's no use crying over trampled crops. It's not as if I can ever go back there, anyway, not to live there at least. But if you think I'm going to marry you just because you apologized –"

He cut her off. "No. I'm not asking that. I know that's what Fa – I mean, Felix, wants. But it's not what you want, and I wouldn't dream of forcing you to marry me. What kind of life could I have when I would constantly wonder if my wife were trying to have me killed?"

"I would never do that," Norah protested.

"You're a gentle soul, I know that, Norah," Robert said, "but if you were forced to marry me, think what that would mean. Our marriage would have to be consummated, and there would be pressure for you to provide an heir to the throne. If you were forced to become my wife, it would be little better than rape, and what woman would not want to see a man dead for abusing her thus? Especially since there would be no legal recourse for you. It would be seen as your duty to your husband."

Norah looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you're right. How can I be so sure I would never resent you and hate you enough to become so desperate? I hope I wouldn't, but unless I find myself in that situation, I guess I will never know."

"Not just humble, but wise as well," Robert said, smiling warmly. "Add that to your beauty and it makes you a triple threat to any man who wishes only bachelorhood." Norah was not particularly beautiful, but she was pretty enough in her own way. Her nose was perhaps a little too up-turned, and her lips too thin for beauty, but her green eyes were definitely her best feature. They were large, but not too large, and a man could drown in them. Just not Robert.

But as he'd told the man who raised him, he intended to do what was right for the kingdom. And he had gotten the measure of Norah's personality. "I know you may not believe me, but I've grown up a bit since we found out… since we were told that we are not who we thought we were. I've done a lot of thinking. And I just want what's best for the kingdom. So, if you'll let me, I'll try to advise you. I've been trained all my life to be the head of the family, to hopefully rule the nation some day. And I'd like to offer all my knowledge, all my training, to you. As a gesture of friendship and reconciliation."

"And what do you want in return?" Norah was suspicious. It sounded too good to be true.

"I just want what's best for the kingdom. If that means becoming your advisor, then that's what I'll do." Robert ignored the part of him that wanted to laugh at this statement. He had to convince her that he was just trying to help.

"And what about marrying me?"

"The only reason anyone suggested that was because of the delicate situation. When they thought he had a male heir, my fa – I mean, Felix, was gaining support." Robert explained further. "The factions are tired of war. They seek peace, but discovering that they had been lied to about me, they felt betrayed. It was thought that if you and I were married, it would appease the factions. I had all the necessary training, and you are of King Rolph's blood. As far as we know, you and Ember and your father are all that's left of his lineage. With my training and your blood, and with the potential for a male heir to ensure a smooth succession, Felix believed that it might be possible to regain the support that was lost." Robert looked down across the grounds of the fortress. This was tiresome!

Norah touched Robert's shoulder, making him jump slightly. "You're right," she said, "I am the natural heir, although I cannot reign, and you _do_ have the training for this." She thought of her farmhands, particularly the one she thought she might be in love with. She felt as though she were betraying him. "I don't know if I can marry you. But perhaps we could be betrothed for an extended period of time, to let me get used to the idea. It _would_ be best for the kingdom. And I don't want to go down in history as the girl who could have given this kingdom a brighter future, but was too selfish." She sighed, mentally saying goodbye to her dreams of love and a simple, yet happy, life. "I have to think of more than just myself now."

Robert was surprised; he had expected to spend weeks or even months convincing her of this. But he knew that Felix had planted seeds by casually mentioning the need to do what was right for the kingdom. Not only to Norah herself, but around Ember as well, who was always looking for an excuse to pick a fight with Norah. According to Felix, several of the girls' fights in the month since Robert had decided to do what was best for the kingdom had been about that very same subject.

"Are you sure, Norah? You don't have to do this. I can be your advisor, it doesn't have to be more than that." Robert tried to sound as sincere as possible.

"We would still have to find a suitable husband for me. A farmer won't do." She looked sad, which made Robert want to roll his eyes. "But although you were _born_ a farmer, you were _raised_ to become a prince, so you're the natural choice."

Before Robert could respond, a soldier burst out onto the battlements. "Sir," he shouted, "Lord Felix asks you to prepare for battle. We've just gotten word that a rival faction is preparing to attack one of our villages!"

"I have to go," Robert said. "Don't tell anyone what you've decided until I return. It will give you time to think on it, and to change your mind if you're not really prepared to do this." He rushed to the armory, hoping to get a spare moment with his father before he had to leave. He wanted to give Felix the good news.

* * *

><p>Paige hugged a huge stuffed snow leopard to her chest. Its head and body were two-and-a-half feet long, and the tail was not quite as long, but still over two feet. When Mike had knocked over all the bottles in the carnival-style game, Paige would have picked the giant teddy bear, but Mike had already asked the attendant for the snow leopard before turning to ask Paige if that was alright. She had nodded happily; the fact that Mike had picked it out for her meant a lot. It also reminded her of the masquerade she'd held in the world that was. One of the first things the Prince of Peacocks had done was compare her to a hunting leopardess.<p>

The Miner's Day Festival was in full swing as dusk approached. Mike and Paige had both had to work today, and afterward they had joined Mark and Sammi at the Festival. The other couple had both had the day off.

They had been wandering through all the games and stands, stopping here and there. But Mike had asked Paige to help him keep an eye out for the booth selling candles to support the convent. Mary Margaret was supposed to be volunteering there. Mike hadn't found out about it until it was too late to get the day off, or else he would have gladly helped her. He hadn't seen her to tell her that he supported her, even if she did have an affair with a married man. He knew she was human, just like everyone else. Just like him.

As the twilight was growing into full darkness, they passed a booth selling funnel cake. Paige loved the stuff, so they stopped to buy some. Since Mike didn't care for it, he got stuck holding Paige's snow leopard and the giant stuffed dolphin Mark had won for Sammi.

A little later, Paige nudged Mike's arm. She'd found the booth that was supposed to be selling candles, but no one was manning it. For that matter, it didn't even look like anyone had bought any. As they approached the booth, the power went out. Everyone started pulling out their cell phones so they could try to see by the glow of the little screens. After a few moments, Mary Margaret came up to the booth with Leroy behind her. Paige smiled at Leroy; despite his sour face, he had come to the hearing with everyone else who had been in Granny's the night she'd played the violin. She didn't know if he was there by choice or had been pressured by other people, but whatever the reason, he had been there, and Paige had appreciated it.

Meanwhile, Mike was telling Mary Margaret that he believed in her, and how sorry he was that he hadn't been able to talk to her yet. The sweet-faced schoolteacher was moved by his words, Paige could tell. She and Mike were the booth's first customers. Mark and Sammi both looked a bit uncomfortable; they probably believed the worst of Mary Margaret. But they still each bought a candle. It beat the heck out of trying to keep their cell phones lit up.

* * *

><p>Sir Ryan and his squire looked down at the two small armies lining up in the meadow. With his experience, Ryan had taken one look at the way the men were being deployed and was able to tell that the one group had been marching toward some goal when the other group had intercepted them. No doubt one of the frequent skirmishes between factions.<p>

"What shall we do, my lord?" the squire asked calmly. The boy was not quite 17, but he was steadfast, and would do King Owen's knights proud one day soon.

"We'll have to try to sneak around behind the fighting. You see there, the fellows in white and purple have rushed to get to where they're at, partly to prevent the fellows in yellow and green from getting to whatever village they probably intended to sack, but also because this particular position is more defensible for the purples than for their opponents. So while they are, perhaps, more tired, they still have the upper hand." Ryan eyed the soon-to-be battlefield with a practiced eye.

"Why can't we just stay here and wait out the fighting, my lord?" The boy was never afraid to ask questions, never worried that he might sound stupid. That was one of his very best traits as far as Ryan was concerned. If he simply followed Ryan's example without ever knowing why, he might get himself killed one day.

"You can never tell which way an army is going to break," Ryan answered. "While we _are_ off to the side, we're more in a line with the green and yellows, which are most likely going to be the ones routed here. Now I can tell you exactly which way they _should_ retreat if it comes to that, but sometimes in battle men can panic. Or perhaps the men who can see what I see about their possible strategies will get killed before the army breaks. Though it wouldn't make a lick of sense for them to retreat this way, some or all of them could end up over here, and maybe with those other fellows on their tails. We don't want to get caught up in someone else's fight. That's why we'll circle around behind the purple fellows, since they're less likely to need a retreat. We'll try to stay as far away as we can, but we also want to keep them in sight, even if only to check on them occasionally. Even with the precautions we're taking, we don't want to get caught with our pants down if they do end up retreating." Ryan watched for a moment. "You let the others know the plan, boy, I'll meet up with all of you once I've intercepted the scout I sent out."

The squire nodded and hurried back down the slope.

* * *

><p>So far, the plan had gone well. There was only one long stretch where they had no cover for checking on the white and purple army, which made Ryan uncomfortable. So he stayed in the last piece of cover to watch while the rest of the party trekked around out of sight. His squire had stayed with him.<p>

There were two other knights in the party, each with a squire, and half a dozen soldiers as well. All told, twelve men had been sent on this mission to the Wolfsbane Kingdom. They were on their way home, bearing Owen's copies of the signed betrothal agreement. It wouldn't be long before they and their new allies would begin the campaign that would conquer this seething mess of squabbling factions.

The others had been out of sight for some time now. Ryan estimated that it wouldn't take much more than another quarter of an hour for one of the other knights to reach the next patch of cover that would be visible from his squire's position. Ryan himself was watching the white and purple army.

He must have made some movement, been detected, because in the very moment that the army charged forth to meet their foe, one man turned and made straight for the stand of trees Ryan was using for cover. A moment later, another, smaller rider followed.

Ryan felt it would be best to let the two men come to him rather than risk the rest of the army seeing why these two men were riding in the opposite direction. He drew his sword and fell instantly into a state of calm, measured thought. Nothing existed but himself and his enemies. The sword was an extension of his arm, the horse a part of his body. In this utter calmness, he awaited his enemy.

* * *

><p>Robert had cried out to the men about the movement he'd seen in the trees, but either they hadn't understood him, or else the general in charge had decided that the very few men who could possibly be hiding in that stand of trees was not enough of a threat. Only a page had followed him, the same annoying youth that had been assigned to Robert for the purpose of running messages and errands, and helping him suit up in his armor. The boy's nose dripped constantly, and he had a disgusting habit of wiping it on his sleeve.<p>

Was this all the support he was going to get? Sighing, he supposed that it was because he was no longer considered Felix's heir. His safety was no longer of paramount importance. The thought irked him. He hoped it was only a few men out there, and not the forefront of an enemy cavalry.

As he approached the trees, he slowed his horse. It wouldn't do to go plunging into the shadows without knowing what was hidden there. The sudden dull flash of a blade was all the warning he had, and he almost didn't get his sword up in time. Hooking the reins up so they would give the horse his head without dangling in the way, Robert used both hands on his sword, guiding his horse with the pressure of his knees.

After only a few blows, he knew he was severely outmatched. This man was older, more experienced, and perhaps simply an all-around better fighter than Robert. Looking closer, Robert realized that the man was much older than he'd originally thought, in his late forties if not his early fifties. Robert's only hope now was that the man's age would get the better of him. Or that luck would smile on him today.

* * *

><p>The page had hung back; the little sword-training a boy his age would have had by now would be severely lacking. Robert's arms were aching from the other man's hammering blows. He was strong for a man well out of his prime! Robert didn't know if he could last much longer. Already, he was bleeding from a shallow cut on his left shoulder, where the armor was jointed for movement. The older knight had easily blocked Robert's panicked counterstroke to that maneuver.<p>

Suddenly, the knight's horse stepped in a gopher-hole, throwing the man off balance. Robert took full advantage of it, knowing he might never get an opportunity like this again. True, most knights would do the honorable thing and let their opponent recover his balance, but Robert was more concerned about surviving, about seeing his father again. Besides, Robert had always considered that sort of chivalry to be outdated and impractical. It would be one thing if his horse had stumbled; this other knight was the better fighter. Chivalry and honor were fine for those men who could afford it, but if Robert hesitated here, he might not live to see the sun set tonight.

Robert's sword found the chink at the other man's left shoulder. Suddenly, he heard another horse approaching, but not from the direction of his own army. This knight had reinforcements! As Robert's own horse stumbled, his sword stabbed deeper than he'd meant it to. The knight cried out in pain, but even as he toppled from his horse, he managed to twist his wrist and stab his sword into Robert's right armpit.

Now it was Robert's turn to cry out. The other horse charged into view. A young squire brandished his blade foolishly, but Robert could tell that the squire knew how to use it. And if, as Robert suspected, the knight had taught this squire, the young man should have little difficulty finishing this fight. Robert, right-handed, wouldn't have been able to use his sword effectively even if he hadn't already dropped it.

"No!" croaked the old knight hoarsely. He coughed up some blood. "Stand down, you silly boy." He spoke to his squire, not to Robert. "Can't you see the man can't even fight right now? What kind of victory could you earn here? Do you want me to go to my grave ashamed of you?"

"No, my lord," the squire said, tears filling his eyes. "Please, Sir Ryan, you can't die!"

"On the contrary, boy, I most certainly can. This is why you're no less than any king, and no better than any peasant. Death comes for us all, whether we are princes or paupers."

Robert winced at that last word. He hated knowing that he had been born into poverty.

"Sir Ryan –" the boy started, but his mentor cut him off.

"Let a dying man have his say, boy," Ryan said, at least half in jest. "Just you finish this mission. Get the documents safely home, and I can die a proud and happy man. Do that for me, won't you? And tell… Owen… that I'm sorry. I won't be able to make good on that bet after all."

"Of course, my lord!" the boy cried, not sure what this bet was, but he knew that his master was close friends with the king. He would deliver the papers, and the message, and hope that he could live up to Sir Ryan's expectations. He was crying freely, and felt no shame for it.

While they were having their little heartfelt conversation, the page had inched his horse forward and grabbed Robert's reins. When Robert looked at him, the boy put a finger to his lips and slowly backed both horses away from the dying knight and his squire.

Tense from fear and pain, Robert watched as the squire helped his master back onto his horse, lashing him there when it became clear that the knight couldn't stay in the saddle unassisted. Robert knew that, if the squire decided that his master's disapproval was worth risking, he and this boy would stand no chance. The squire would kill them both, probably without breaking a sweat.

But after a long glare at the slowly retreating men, the squire remounted and led his master's horse away. Robert let out a deep breath. He had very much feared that he would die here today, but even though the knight's chivalry had spared his life, he still thought it was outdated.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold had already removed Paige's belt and unbuttoned her pants. She tried to push his hands away; the shop was open for business! Couldn't this wait until the door was locked for their lunch hour? It was only another half-hour until then! But Gold grabbed Paige's wrists, holding them with one hand while he used the other to push Paige's pants down her legs. "Remember, dove, we have an agreement," he said, smirking at her.<p>

Paige swallowed, hard. She so didn't want to do this right now. Gold was sitting on his chair, and she strongly suspected that she knew exactly what he wanted her to do. She had known this moment was coming eventually, but she hadn't expected it to be during business hours!

Since Paige had stopped struggling, Gold let go of her hands. "All the way off," he told her, enjoying her panicked discomfort. Trembling, she did as she was told. She felt so embarrassed to be standing there in nothing but her dress shirt and bra. Anyone could walk in, and what if someone stuck their head through the curtain looking for Gold? What if someone saw her like this?

Grinning wickedly, Gold pulled Paige down onto his lap. While Paige was busy being embarrassed, he had pushed his own pants down to his knees. He used one hand to position himself as he guided Paige's hips. She gasped as she felt her body sliding down over his. She just sat there, her cheeks bright red. Gold unbuttoned her shirt halfway so he could lick her breasts along the edge of her bra.

Paige decided that if she kept doing nothing, it would only drag this out, making it more likely that someone would catch them. She was mortified to realize that this had some of the same excitement as whenever Mr. Gold took her outside to have sex.

Awkwardly, she started moving her hips up and down. She had never been in control before, and it was rather obvious that she didn't know what she was doing. She couldn't find a rhythm, and she couldn't stop listening for the bell that would mean someone might find her like this. There would be no way to make people believe that she hadn't wanted this, not with her on top of him, riding him.

But she couldn't quite ignore that mutinous little voice in the back of her head. It was telling her that if she would just let go of her worries, she could be having a lot of fun with this.

After a while, Paige stopped moving. Her cheeks reddened again, but for a different reason this time. **I don't think I can do this,** she signed. **My legs are getting tired, and I'm not…** She couldn't finish that sentence. But Gold smirked; he knew what she meant. She wasn't anywhere close to orgasm, and in fact, he wasn't all that close, either.

"Very well, then, dove. We're going to have work on this," he insinuated. "Stand up."

Paige's legs were shaking as she stood. Mr. Gold pushed her down onto the work table, on her back. He put her legs up in the air; he knew it would humiliate her, and he felt she rather deserved that just now. He knew she had let her embarrassment get in the way, leaving both of them unsatisfied. He very much intended to get her on top as often as he could. She clearly needed the practice.

Grasping her ankles, Gold didn't bother with a slow pace. They were both already worked up enough that he went straight to a hard, fast rhythm. It didn't take long for either of them to reach their peak. When it was over, Paige just lay on the table, her legs dangling over the edge as she recovered. Mr. Gold started cleaning himself up.

As he was zipping his pants, Paige sat up on the table. He handed her a box of tissues, which made her blush. Refusing the box, she instead grabbed her pants and shoes and went into the bathroom to clean up. She hadn't bothered to close the door, so after retrieving something from the floor, Gold went and leaned against the doorframe. He didn't say anything, he just gave Paige a disapproving frown.

**It's not my fault,** Paige signed, flushing. **It was my first time, and I was so scared someone would come in and…catch us.**

"Catch you, you mean." Mr. Gold hid his amusement. For someone who seemed to think she didn't want to do this, she was quite defensive about it. He almost laughed at the look she gave him. She was still fighting it, but he could sense that she was getting closer to accepting her lust for him.

Suddenly, the little bell rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. Paige froze, her hand on the lever that would flush the toilet. The panic on her face was enough to make Gold smirk.

"Gold?" came Emma's voice. "Paige? Is anybody here?" The sound of her voice was approaching; she had to be heading for the curtained doorway!

"I'll be right out, Sheriff," Mr. Gold called, putting his hand over top of Paige's and flushing the toilet. Paige looked at him, wondering why he had done that, but Emma's reply was enough to answer her question.

"Oh, right, I'll…wait out here."

From this, Paige assumed that Emma had been about to enter the back room, but when she realized that Gold was in the bathroom with the door open, she backed off. Paige felt a huge sense of relief.

Paige couldn't find her panties. She had thought that they had been tangled up in her pants, but they certainly weren't there now. She signed desperately to Mr. Gold, who was now washing his hands. When he had dried them, he signed back, **Just dress without them, we don't have time for this.** Then he limped out through the back room and into the shop. Before going through the curtain, he made sure to check the pocket of his dress pants. It wouldn't do for Emma to notice a pair of ladies' underwear sticking out of his pocket.

Paige slipped into her pants and slid her feet into the flats. She crept out into the back room, hoping to find her panties on the floor, maybe kicked under the table or something. But she froze when Emma said, "Actually, I was looking for Paige. I've been texting her all morning, and she hasn't answered."

"I prefer that she leaves her phone in her purse, on silent, while she's working. It's just more professional that way," he said smiling at Emma as if to say that she surely understood his reasoning. "And I'm afraid you just missed her," he added, turning so his voice would carry a bit more clearly into the back room. "I sent her out for Chinese, since it's almost our lunch hour." Seeing that Emma was clearly suspicious, he smirked. He remembered her so-called 'super-power' of detecting lies. But this wasn't exactly a lie. That's why he had turned so Paige would hear him better, so she would understand that he was sending her out to go pick up Chinese.

Easing quietly out the back door, Paige froze in a moment of realization. Had Mr. Gold known this was going to happen? Just over an hour ago, he had told her to oil the hinges of this door. But then she realized that she had to get going. She took off at a fast walk, her legs protesting.

* * *

><p>The hostess recognized Paige on sight; she came to pick up food for herself and Gold about once a week, usually. "Oh, Miss Paige, nice to see you! Mr. Gold not call ahead today? But that's okay, that's okay, we know what he get. We have ready in five minute, okay?"<p>

Smiling, Paige signed, **Thank you**, which was the only sign the woman understood.

"Oh, you welcome, Miss Paige, no problem!"

* * *

><p>When Paige returned, Mr. Gold had thanked her for picking up their lunch, and, smirking knowingly all the while, he took the bags and told her he'd get everything set up upstairs. "Oh, and don't forget to lock the door after the sheriff leaves, Paige," he added.<p>

Paige turned to Emma. **So, you were waiting for me?**

"Yeah," Emma replied, turning from having watched Gold leave the room. "I just wanted to… apologize. You have the right to do whatever you want, with whoever you want. I was just… I would never expect anyone to… you know. With him." Emma tilted her head in the direction of the curtained door, where Gold had disappeared to.

**It's okay. Everyone else in town agrees with you, I think. That's why I don't want anyone to know.**

"I know it's none of my business, but does Mike know?" Emma felt a bit guilty about asking such a personal question, but for some reason she felt like it was very important to know.

Paige looked down. **Yes,** she signed. **He and I haven't… done that, so I had to tell him. But I let him believe it only happened once between me and Mr. Gold. When he found out it was more than that, that's when he tried to leave. We've only just started talking again. It was… a huge fight.** There were tears in Paige's eyes.

"I didn't know you guys were fighting," Emma said. "But then again, I haven't seen you together much since his accident. I'm sorry you guys have been fighting."

**Me too. **With the back of her hand, Paige wiped roughly at the tears that were now running down her cheeks.

"Anyway," Emma said, "I wanted to ask if you still needed me to go to the doctor with you."

**Well, yeah, I mean, Ruby went to the last one, but it would go faster if I didn't have to text someone. But I've got an ultrasound next week. Ruby already said she'll go, but you can come too. **Paige was grateful that Emma was still willing to be her friend. With Mike starting to maybe come around as well, Paige was hopeful that things were getting better for her.

"Great," Emma said. "Oh, and have you heard from Ruby lately?"

**Actually, not since just after the Miner's Day Festival,** Paige said. She'd been so excited to have Mike back in her life, even if it was still pretty awkward, that she hadn't noticed that it had been nearly a week since she'd heard from Ruby.

"She… had a big fight with her grandmother yesterday. Mary Margaret and I found her wandering through the streets with no place to go, so she spent the night at our apartment."

**Is she okay,** Paige signed. **She should have come to my house, I have a guest room.**

"She said she didn't want to impose on you in your condition," Emma explained.

Giving Emma a flat look, Paige signed, **I can only think of three "conditions" that I have – I'm mute, overweight, and pregnant. None of those stops me from helping out a friend. I could understand if she'd broken both legs and needed someone to lift her in and out of her wheelchair; pregnant women aren't supposed to do a lot of lifting. But she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself.**

"I think she was embarrassed," said Emma. "I don't think she would have told anyone if we hadn't seen her with her bag."

**I guess so,** Paige signed. She could see Ruby not wanting to burden anyone with her own troubles, but she wondered if the girl was simply afraid that if she asked for help, no one would want to help her. Despite her unique flair and seeming confidence, Ruby seemed to have some problems with self-esteem.

"But listen," said Emma, cutting into Paige's thoughts. "I go to these kickboxing classes at the gym, and the instructor has just gotten certified in some crazy Latin-dance cardio workout, it sounds like a lot of fun. And Ruby said she took you out to the club a couple weeks ago, and that you really seemed to like dancing, so I though maybe you'd want to come with me and check it out."

**Oh! That does sound like fun, but I don't have any workout clothes.** Paige wasn't a big fan of exercise in general, but if this was dancing, it might be fun. Besides, she could sense that Emma was using this as a peace offering, to show that she really wanted to be a part of Paige's life, and that meant a lot.

"It starts tonight, at six forty-five. You get off at five, right?" Paige nodded, so Emma continued, "I can pick you up and we can grab dinner at Granny's and then do a little shopping. We should have plenty of time before class starts."

**Okay!** Paige signed. She realized that she was actually kind of excited about this.

* * *

><p>Norah sat with her mother, who was fighting another fever. Dorcas had been sickly ever since she almost died when giving birth to Ember, more susceptible to illness. Dorcas looked up into the green eyes of the daughter she had traded away. She hated those eyes. They looked at her with such kindness, and it made her feel guilty. She preferred Ember, whose green eyes were always filled with fire. Whether the girl was angry or excited, her eyes had always seemed more like green flames than simple eyes. It was the mark of her passion for life, while Norah's eyes were gentle, the eyes of someone whose niceness could easily be taken advantage of.<p>

"You are weak," spat Dorcas. "I'm glad I traded you for Robert."

Norah's eyes filled with tears. "You didn't trade me, Mother. You abandoned me." Her face took on an unaccustomed hardness. "And after everything I've seen here, I think I'm glad you did. If you had raised me, I might have ended up like Ember, and I would despise myself if I were that selfish and stupid. Even Robert isn't much of a success. You spared me your lack of parenting skills, Dorcas. You are not my mother." Norah had finally had enough of the constant barbs and fights. "My mother died a long time ago. And I love her still."

As Norah turned and stalked out of the room, Dorcas watched her go. She only lashed out because she didn't know how to talk to this daughter she had given away. She didn't even know how she felt about the girl. Did she love her firstborn daughter, or was she truly disappointed in her? She thought she had made her peace with what she had done, but now that she was confronted by it all over again, she found it even more painful than actually trading her newborn for another woman's baby. Before she could give the matter much thought, her sickly body dragged her down into sleep.

* * *

><p>Vicki, the instructor, took Paige and Emma aside. Emma had called Paige's OBGYN, who remembered her from their first visit. He had assured Emma there was no indication that Paige's pregnancy was high-risk, and that if she was careful, there should be no problem.

"Hi, Paige, I'm Vicki." The woman shook Paige's hand. She looked like she was in her thirties, and it was easy to tell she was a fitness instructor. She was very fit.

"Emma explained the situation. I was actually taking this class over Skype last year when I was pregnant, and I didn't have any problems. In fact, I did a class the day before I went into labor." Paige looked surprised, which made Vicki smile. People often tended to assume that pregnant women shouldn't exercise at all during the last trimester. "If we're doing anything that feels awkward or is too hard, modify it. If you're not sure how, ask me after class, and I'll be glad to help you out. Make sure you drink plenty of water, and listen to your body. If you feel like you can't keep up, or if you get out of breath, then just do a slow march to get your heart rate down. Ideally, you want to be able to sing along to the music, or hold a conversation with someone. If you can't do that, you could be depriving the baby of oxygen. You got that?"

Paige nodded, but didn't bother to have Emma remind the woman that she couldn't speak. She understood what Vicki meant. It wasn't that she _should_ sing along or talk, just that she should be _able _to.

"Good," said Vicki. "Also, if we're jumping around or leaping, just step it out. Do a step-touch, or march in place, whatever you feel comfortable with. And just be careful with any quick transitions or turns and spins. You might start having some problems with your balance soon, so just watch out for it. If you can't twist or turn, then don't. And I would recommend some kind of protein snack after each workout. We have a juice bar, and we sell protein bars and smoothies with protein powder in them. You can buy something here, or get something at the grocery store, but protein is important after a workout, especially for a pregnant woman."

Vicki talked to Paige for a few minutes more, mainly just making sure that Paige understood what she meant. Emma had made sure they were at the gym early, because Vicki had told her she wanted to explain things to Paige since the mute girl didn't exercise regularly.

* * *

><p>When he had come into the gym to collect the rent, Mr. Gold had been surprised to catch sight of Paige in a mirrored exercise room. She was between Emma and a blonde girl with blazing green eyes. When he moved closer, he was informed that it was a new fitness class, some kind of dancing as a cardio workout. Smirking to himself, Gold took the money and left. Paige certainly looked like she was enjoying herself, and getting a little more in shape had certainly never hurt anyone. It might even strengthen those legs of hers.<p>

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episodes "Dreamy" and "Red-Handed."

Since ABC's timeline is not mentioned in most episodes, I've continued with the assumption that approximately one week passes between each episode, unless it is otherwise stated on the show.

Hope you enjoyed, and please review!


	15. S1 Ch15 - Tea For Two

Sorry this took so long! After the Season Finale, I needed to resort a few things and basically plan out the rest of my Season 1 chapters. Also, I've started re-reading my previous chapters to make sure that I have not lost sight of any potential plotlines or important details. I'm still working on the re-reads, but I've got my next six chapters roughly sketched out as to what needs to happen and/or be revealed... What this means is that, hopefully, the remaining six chapters in Season 1 will come out a bit faster than this one did.

After that, though, we'll have to wait for Season 2...

Anyway, sorry again for the long wait, hope it was worth it!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>A Gancanagh, pronounced "gon-cawn-ah," is a legendary beautiful male fairy who enjoys making mortal women fall in love with him, only to disappear and leave the women longing for him and searching for him until their deaths. It is thought that the Gancanagh has a toxin in his skin that makes the women he seduces literally addicted to him, and so women often die from withdrawal, or fight to the death for his love. The name comes from an Irish phrase that means "love talker."<p>

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin paced 'round his table. If he had been anything but what he was, he might have regretted looking into the future, but he needed to know. Knowledge was power, and Rumpelstiltskin was a creature of great power.<p>

He had discovered that, when this Curse was finally cast, he would need certain information. His glimpse of the future showed that he would have to allow himself to be caught so that he could acquire some of that vital information. He knew he would hate being in a cage, but to make matters worse, this Curse would translate that literally. If he were incarcerated here, he would be incarcerated in the next world.

If he wasn't free to keep pulling the necessary strings in the world in which they would find themselves, the Curse might never be broken. He knew his deft touch would be crucial for these events. So when he saw that he would be imprisoned, he looked for a way out. And he found one.

"Only the royal descendant of the union between a human and a fairy can save me from that vile cage," he muttered to himself. He wasn't quite sure yet how that would work, since that would depend on the individual he chose, but he had looked for mortals who were descended from fairies. There weren't many, and most would take too long to maneuver into becoming true royalty. Only two might work for his purposes, one because she would, with his help, marry a king, which would make her child both royal _and_ part-fairy.

The other was actually descended from royalty, but the family had no proof of their lineage, and so the warring of the factions in that kingdom still continued. If he could manipulate the boy into wanting that proof, Rumpelstiltskin would be only too glad to provide it. For a price, of course. But with that proof, the boy could become a figurehead for the Royalist faction, whose current leader wasn't a blood relative to the royal line. If the boy could unify the land and become king, either he or his child could work for Rumpelstiltskin's purposes. And interestingly enough, he had interacted with a member of the boy's family before. He hadn't known then that he had been planting seeds that could turn out to be so very useful to him…

After some thought, Rumpelstiltskin decided to meet with the girl first.

* * *

><p>Waiting for the doctor, Paige shifted in her chair, trying not to wonder what price she would pay for getting the whole day off. With her sonogram being in the morning, she could have made it back to the pawnshop for the latter half of her shift, but the idea of having two days off in a row had been far too tempting. Even the thought of whatever Mr. Gold would want in return hadn't been enough to keep her from asking for the day off.<p>

Suddenly, she heard Doctor Whale outside the room, talking to her OB/GYN, Paige edged her chair closer, trying to hear the conversation without Ruby and Emma noticing what she was doing. As a result, she came into the conversation partway.

"When Paige was attacked, there was some damage to her spinal cord," Whale was saying. "We couldn't tell if it was from her struggling against them or if they were just that violent with her – based on her other injuries, at least one of her attackers was particularly vicious. At any rate, we repaired the damage, but until the swelling went down, we were concerned that she would end up paralyzed from the waist down. Fortunately, that wasn't the case, but there's a lot scarring in that area. I'm afraid an epidural is out of the question for Miss Cygnus."

Paige strained to hear her doctor's reply, but he must have been farther away from the door. She could tell that he was answering, but not what he was saying. His voice faded even further; perhaps he'd noticed that the door was ajar. The next time Doctor Whale spoke, she couldn't quite understand him, either.

When the doctor finally came into the room, he made no mention of Doctor Whale's revelation. Paige hoped Emma and Ruby were paying better attention than she was, because suddenly, all she could think about was how hard it was going to be to _not_ scream when she was in labor. Intellectually, she knew she had months to prepare, to hopefully find an alternative solution, but she couldn't force down this panic. If she had tried to speak at that moment, no sound would have made it past the lump in her throat.

* * *

><p>"No, no, silly," the young girl said, "That tea is for me. It might be bad for a squirrel." The squirrel in question chattered and moved back, every line of its tiny body conveying disappointment. "Don't worry," the ten-year-old continued, placing a tea cup filled with spring water in front of the animal. "I've got some refreshing water for you, and some lovely, ripe chestnuts."<p>

Almost before she had set the small plate down, the squirrel snatched up one of the nuts, nibbling away the shell. But the squirrel wasn't the only unusual guest for this tea party. There was also a rabbit, who had been given some crisp leaves of lettuce, a few different species of birds, with either fruit or seeds in front of them, and a hedgehog, with some roots and berries on its little plate. The only "guest" who didn't have a plate was the hummingbird; but the water in its teacup was sweetened generously with honey and colored with a little bit of berry juice.

"Now," the girl said, "isn't this lovely?" She took a sip of her tea, her pinky crooked out in that childish imitation of supposedly grown-up manners. After placing her cup gently back on its chipped saucer, she took an overly delicate bite out of the sandwich she had brought for herself. Then she addressed her furry companions. "Shall I tell you a story?"

Being merely animals, they couldn't really understand what the girl was saying, but there was something about her that drew them to her, so they all turned to face her. It looked for all the world as if they were genuinely interested to hear the story.

"Well, I think I'll tell you a love story today. It's very sweet," she added, smiling. "I just know you'll love it!" Her face glowed as she shifted to a more comfortable position. "And actually, it's about my grandmother's great grand-mother. I'm named for her, by the way. Her name was Elaenor. My mother just took off the "El" part at the beginning and named me Aenor." She smiled around at her little audience.

"Elaenor loved to walk in the forest. It was her favorite place to be. So I'm like her in more than just my name, because I, too, feel most at home when I'm surrounded by trees and grass." Aenor sounded quite pleased to have inherited this love of the forest. "One day, she happened upon a strange man. It was her twenty-first birthday, and although her parents were not rich, they had scrimped and saved, and bought the most beautiful green cloth, which her mother sewed into a dress for her. Her parents hoped it would soon be her wedding dress, but Elaenor had spent little time with the young men in the village, and did not know them very well. I think she was afraid of getting married, afraid that her husband would want her to give up her forests and live in a big house, with nothing but stones and dust and creaky wooden boards. I wouldn't want to live in such a place." Aenor's nose crinkled in distaste, but at the same time, she had a brief moment of wondering what it would be like to live in a big, fancy house with a real floor made out of wood or stone. Would it really be so bad? Surely a wife would be allowed to come to the woods sometimes.

"Anyway, the stranger seemed startled, not to see her, but that _she_ could see _him_! As if he had expected her to just walk right on past without ever noticing him." Aenor's eyes grew wide. "But how could she not see him? He was the most beautiful man in the whole world, and Elaenor felt her heart skip a beat. She had fallen in love at first sight! She was glad she was wearing her new dress, because she knew he would like it more than any of her other dresses."

Aenor paused, as if listening to a question. "You want to know how she knew? Well, she knew he would like green for two reasons. First, he was wearing green himself, but most importantly, he was a fairy! Even though his wings were not visible, no mortal man could ever be _that_ beautiful. She knew he must be a Forest Fairy, which meant that green and brown must be his favorite colors, especially right at the beginning of summer."

Pausing to take another delicate sip of tea, just as she'd always imagined a princess would drink tea, Aenor smiled. This was her favorite story, the more so because she was named after the woman who had loved a fairy.

"Now the fairy, he was so surprised that a mortal could see him that he didn't even try to run or hide. Elaenor spoke to him, confessed her love to him, and his heart was touched by the mortal girl's words. So much so that he began to love her as well. They courted for but a few hours before they knew that they were meant to be together always. Elaenor took him home to meet her parents, and she and her fairy lover were married the next day. They lived in the woods near her parents' cottage, in a leafy bower that, through the fairy's magic, kept out all rain, all unpleasant weathers. They were not even married a year before Elaenor had a daughter. But after a few years, Elaenor grew sad that she had aged while her husband remained always the same. For, you understand, fairies are immortal."

Aenor leaned closer, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. "But her husband offered to take her to the land where the fairies live, a land where she might live forever!" In a slightly more normal voice, she said gravely, "But there was a price. He could only take his wife, not their daughter. But he promised that if Elaenor wanted to, she could come and visit once every ten years or so, to see how her daughter was doing."

Now her voice grew stronger, almost triumphant. "So Elaenor took her daughter to her parents' cottage and, though they were sad, her parents agreed to raise their granddaughter. And Elaenor went away with her husband, to live with the fairies! And," she added, her voice going low and significant once more, "as far as we know, she lives there still!" She laughed delightedly, clapping her hands. "That's why my mother called me Aenor instead of Elaenor. She didn't want to name me after someone still living!"

Suddenly, the sound of clapping rang through the little clearing. Rumpelstiltskin sat in the branches of a tree that stuck out into the clearing. "That was lovely," he cried, drawing the word "lovely" out into nearly three syllables. He dropped lightly to the ground, and the animals scattered, disappearing into the forest. "But 'twasn't the truth of it, dearie. No, I'm afraid 'tis not nearly so pretty a tale as you have been told." He smirked knowingly at the girl. Her curiosity would be her undoing.

* * *

><p>Paige lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. After Ruby had dropped her off at home, Paige couldn't seem to settle her mind. She had even tried spinning some of her fibers into yarn, hoping that the hated task would take so much attention she wouldn't have time to think, but after she had broken down in tears, she knew it wasn't going to work.<p>

She had texted Ruby, hoping against hope that her friend didn't have to work this afternoon. Paige didn't want to be alone right now, and Mike had only just left for work. He had switched shifts with a coworker, which meant he would be working until at least ten tonight.

The ceiling swam as tears filled Paige's eyes. How could she possibly do this? How could she give birth to a child without making a single sound? She hadn't even considered this implication when making the deal with Rumpelstiltskin. And she certainly knew that birthing a child was painful. She had been present for the births of all of her brothers. Five times she had stood by as Nerean had delivered her brothers. Five times she had heard the pained shrieks of her mother. The twins' birth had been especially painful, if her mother's screams were any indication, but the last one had been the worst by far.

Even though Paige did not expect those kinds of complications here, with all the medical technology this world had to offer, she was still terrified of the sheer amount of pain her mother had been in when she gave birth to Paul. She kept trying to console herself with the fact that the pain had been the result of the complications and not the actual birth, but even that was scant comfort, since her mother had died of those complications.

For the first time in years, Paige almost wished that she had made a different choice. She was ashamed of herself for even considering it, because her motives were purely selfish. What she wanted most in the world right now was her mother's arms around her. Her mother's voice telling her that old childhood lie, the one about everything being alright. Paige knew better, she knew that things wouldn't necessarily be alright, no matter how much anyone said it, but right now all she wanted was that reassurance. Because, even though it was a lie, being told that everything would be alright had always soothed her tears, had always made her feel like things weren't as bleak as they seemed. And sometimes, that illusion was all that mattered.

Over the nearly-silent sound of herself crying, Paige never even heard the car pull up. The only thing she heard was a knock on the door. But Paige was feeling too miserable to get up and answer the door. The knock sounded again, more urgently this time. She could dimly hear Ruby's voice calling out her name. It startled her; she had already forgotten that she texted to ask if her friend could come over for a little while.

She managed to sit up on the bed, but she couldn't make herself care enough to actually get up. She flopped back down on the bed, ignoring the sound her phone was making. It was probably Ruby texting her, and she didn't want to deal with it right now.

The knocking had stopped, and soon, her phone stopped going off as well. _Good_, Paige thought to herself. She just wanted to wrap herself up in her pain and be miserable.

It startled her to hear someone on the steps, to hear Ruby's voice calling, "Paige? Paige, are you okay?"

Dimly, Paige wondered why Ruby's voice sounded so panicked. When Ruby finally made it through the bedroom door, Paige made the extreme effort to lift up her head and twist around to look at Ruby.

"Paige!" Ruby cried. "Oh, God, you scared me! Are you okay?" Her face was worried and frightened.

But Paige simply heaved another sobbing breath and flopped back down onto the bed, her body untwisting so that she was once again lying on her side, facing away from the door. She didn't react as the bed moved, or as Ruby settled down behind her. Ruby spooned Paige's body, which was curled up in a semi-fetal position. She put her arm around Paige, holding her.

"Oh, Paige, what's wrong?" Ruby mentally kicked herself for saying that; it wasn't like she would get an answer. Paige was clearly not in any condition to try to put together a coherent text message. Even if the girl had been able to speak, Ruby was fairly sure that she would still be impossible to understand. "Is it the pregnancy?"

Paige nodded, and another round of nearly-silent sobs wracked her body. Part of her was grateful to Ruby, while another part was embarrassed and miserable and just wanted to be left alone.

"It's going to be okay, Paige, I promise." Ruby felt her stomach tighten. She knew it was a lie; things weren't always okay. But this was the kind of thing people always said to soothe someone who was in so much pain. "Everything's going to be fine, just you wait and see."

For a moment, Paige's body went stiff in Ruby's arms. She thought of pulling away, of telling Ruby to leave. But Ruby had started a sort of rocking motion, which felt a bit odd at first since they were both lying on their sides, but once the oddness wore off, it was rather soothing. Paige slowly relaxed into Ruby's embrace, crying nearly silently into her pillow.

* * *

><p>After Paige had cried herself out, she lay on her back, with Ruby sitting cross-legged next to her. For several long minutes, they let the silence linger, but the moment Paige met Ruby's eyes, the dark-haired girl handed over the cell phone she'd picked up off the nightstand.<p>

[Thanks] was Paige's first text.

"What's wrong," Ruby asked gently, almost afraid to say it.

[I just got so scared all of a sudden. I don't know if i can do this. Have a baby.]

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ruby understood this; Ashley had been afraid, too. That was why she had initially agreed to give up her baby.

[I'm pretty sure you just did…] Paige smiled weakly when Ruby looked at her after reading that text.

"I'm glad I could help," Ruby said.

Paige didn't text again for a long moment, and when she did, she asked a question that had only just occurred to her. [How did you get in here?]

"Oh," Ruby said, looking almost embarrassed, "uh, Mike… told me where he kept the spare key outside. It was a while ago, before… before his accident. He said he thought maybe someone else should be able to get in, just in case." Ruby had almost said, before the fight, but Paige's emotions were fragile enough right now. True, things between Paige and Mike were getting better, but Ruby didn't want to bring it up in case it upset Paige even more.

Paige gave a nearly silent snort of laughter. [Well, i'm glad he did. I forgot i'd texted you, and then i didn't want you here at first, i just wanted to be alone with my misery. But now i'm glad you came.]

Looking serious, Ruby stared intently at the bedspread for a moment. "We all have times like that. Where we want to wallow in misery and be selfish." Her eyes filled with tears, but she shook her head as if to clear the air of that subject. "Have you talked to Mike about this? About how scared you are?"

But Paige didn't quite know how to answer this. She started several different text messages, trying to figure out exactly what to say. She finally sat up and leaned against the headboard, as if that would help her think better. When Ruby finally got an answering text, it read, [Things aren't… what they seem between Mike and me. Even before the fight, and we're only just starting to make up.]

Ruby remembered Mike's recovery at the hospital, when he turned his back on Paige. But when Ruby had taken her home, Paige only said that she and Mike had had a big fight right before he went missing. So now, Ruby made herself ask. "Did you fight about your pregnancy?"

[No. It was about something else entirely.]

"What was it?" Ruby was asking partly out of curiosity, and partly because she felt like she couldn't help Paige feel better if she didn't understand this. Something told her that their current relationship status was important.

Paige went through another bout of starting and discarding text messages. Finally, she typed only, [It's not my secret to tell…] Technically, that wasn't true. She was one of the two people involved, so it was her secret, but she didn't want anyone else finding out what was going on between her and Mr. Gold. She had already nearly lost two friends over it, the only two aside from Mr. Gold that knew sign language. Even though Emma had come around, and Mike was making a genuine effort, Paige didn't want to risk losing Ruby, too. She also didn't want to see that disgusted look in Ruby's eyes.

Ruby gave a slight gasp. "Mike is… he's…" But she couldn't bring herself to say the word. "Mike likes guys?"

Looking miserable, Paige texted, [Like i said, it's not my secret to tell.] She hadn't meant to give that away.

"Are you okay with it?" Ruby asked.

[Can we please not talk about it?] Paige felt horrible. She was only trying to keep Ruby from finding out her deepest, darkest secret, and instead, she had given away Mike's. She sent Ruby another text. [And please, don't tell anyone! I'm begging you!]

Ruby could see how upset Paige was. "Of course not," she replied. There was an awkward silence between the two, but before it had stretched too long, Ruby asked, "Is Mike playing poker with his friends again this week?"

Instead of wasting time typing, Paige simply nodded her head yes. When Ruby asked, "And that's Wednesday night, right," Paige nodded again. "Hmm," Ruby mused, "I'm supposed to work Thursday morning, but I'm sure if I ask, Granny will let me switch with someone. So, let's go shopping! We can buy you a new outfit for the club!"

[Well, i don't know…] Paige replied.

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! You had fun last time, I could tell," Ruby wheedled. "Please, Paige? It'll be good for you to get out! And I'll teach you a dance Ashley and I used to do together!" When Paige gave her a confused look, Ruby added, "Billy's the DJ on Wednesday nights, and sometimes he lets me dance on that stage they use for live band night. Ash and I used to dance together a lot, before she got pregnant, but when she was starting to show, she stopped going to the club with me. Please, Paige?"

[Well, alright. I just don't know if I'll be very good company.]

"Come on, Paige, it's Monday, you have two whole days before you have to face being social!" Ruby was pretty sure that her sheer persistence was winning Paige over.

[Okay, okay, I'll go.] The text almost sounded like Paige felt forced, but when Ruby looked at her, Paige was smiling wryly to show that it was a joke.

* * *

><p>Aenor was terrified to find herself face-to-face with Rumpelstiltskin. But she didn't let it show. The ten-year-old drew herself up imperiously and said, "I didn't invite <em>you<em>. Your presence is neither required nor wanted." After a brief pause with no reaction from the imp, she added, "There is no deal to be made here, sirrah!"

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "Well, aren't you a precocious little miss?" he asked in an oily tone. The girl might have fooled a mere human with her face and her voice, but he knew how scared she was. He could also sense the interest she had immediately pushed aside. She wanted to hear his version of the story she loved so much.

Putting her hands on her hips, Aenor tried to look intimidating. Her mother often loomed over her like this when she had misbehaved, and it always made her cower. But Aenor failed to take two things into account: first, she was not tall enough to loom over a grown man, and second, this was no ordinary person. The gesture simply looked childish and petulant.

"I know you want to hear the tale," Rumpelstiltskin sing-songed.

"I most certainly do not," she said, her scowl failing to cause the desired reaction.

Rumpelstiltskin merely laughed. "No-no-no-no. No," he said shaking a finger at the girl. "No lies, dearie, not to me. You want to know the truth, I can tell." His grin was evil. "But the question is, what _will_ you give me in return for it?"

Aenor wanted to deny it again, but somehow she knew that he would not believe her, no matter how convincingly she might lie. "I have nothing to give, and no matter what I do or do not want, I know better than to deal with your ilk."

"Oh," Rumpelstiltskin said, making a pained face as if her comment had hurt. But Aenor was not fooled; she could see the mocking quality to his expression. "You cut me to the quick, dearie." He smirked at her, knowing full well that she had caught his mockery.

Her face flushed with anger. "I will pay you nothing," she said sullenly.

"Worry you not, dearie, I'll not ask anything too terrible. For but a trifle you can learn the truth of your ancestress, and you cannae tell me you don't want that." He grinned as the girl fought with herself. "If I were you, little one, I would be… infuriated, at discovering I was being lied to." He knew that being lied to, especially if she suspected it was an attempt at coddling her, was one of Aenor's pet peeves.

Aenor clenched her teeth. He was right, she _was_ upset. He had told her that the true story wasn't as "pretty" of a tale, which meant that they thought she was too young, too sensitive, to hear the truth. As most ten-year-olds do, she hated being treated like a small child. In only six more years, she would be old enough to marry if she wished, and although years passed by _so_ very slowly, she had already lived through ten of them. She was more than halfway to adulthood, as she saw it, so she should be treated accordingly. She was no baby to be protected from the harsh realities of life, whatever that meant. It was a phrase she had heard her father use, the harsh realities of life.

"Ah, well, if you prefer being cosseted like a babe, then by all means, I'll go my merry way!" Rumpelstiltskin turned as if to leave.

"Wait!" Aenor cried. When the impish man turned back with a mockingly curious expression on his face, she felt her cheeks flush. "I will make no promises yet. But I want to know, what _would_ the price be, if I wanted to know the truth?"

"Nothing too difficult for a wee one with an imagination," he said, grinning at his intentional slight regarding Aenor's age. "The price is thus: should you ever find yourself in the position where you could marry a king, you must do so. You must agree to become a queen. But only, of course, should that situation arise." He made it sound as if it were not likely to occur.

Aenor felt a little torn. She loved her forest, and in the stories, kings and queens lived in big castles with large towns built up around them. But, as had happened earlier, she wondered once again what it would be like to get up in the morning and feel a floor made of stone or wood under her feet, instead of dirt. And as the vile man had implied, it was unlikely that any king would find his way out here. Her family had always lived a rather isolated existence, even before Elaenor was born. The nearest village was over an hour's walk away.

"Very well, I agree," Aenor said.

"Excellent," Rumpelstiltskin said, smirking. He sat down across from where Aenor had sat. "Sit, sit," he encouraged, reaching across the large stump Aenor had set up as her table to take half of the cut sandwich for himself. But after one bite, he grimaced and tossed the rest aside. The bread had gone just slightly stale, but her family was poor, and even if she had noticed, she probably would have eaten it anyway. They couldn't afford not to.

"Now, the beginning is close enough to the same, although the dress was not new, and the fabric poorly dyed. But the fairy was not surprised by her at all. He had been watching her for some time, following her to her favorite places so he could decide where he wanted to lay in wait for her. For he was a Gancanagh, and that is what they do. He stalked her like prey, and when he struck, she was helpless. She fell in _love_ with him, as has every woman he has hunted." He said the word "love" derisively, partly because of his own distaste for it, and partly because this had been obsession, not actual love.

"The Gancanagh seduced Elaenor, and laid her bare beneath the skies for that so-pleasant embrace a husband shares with a wife, although they were unmarried." He drew out that last word to four syllables, pronouncing it "un-mare-ee-ed." He looked shrewdly at Aenor, to make sure she understood.

But her family's cottage had only two rooms. The larger was used for daily life: cooking, sewing and mending, eating, repairing whatever had broken, that sort of thing. The smaller room was for sleeping, and they had no bed, only thick mattresses of straw to keep them up off the dirt floor. Aenor's mattress was in a corner near the back side of the fireplace, while her parents' mattress was against the outside wall. Her parents had never treated their lovemaking as something shameful, so Aenor had often been present during their passionate encounters. She looked evenly back at Rumpelstiltskin; if he was expecting to shock or embarrass her with sex, he had picked the wrong girl.

He smirked knowingly before continuing. "And once she let him have her like that, it was over for her. She was well and truly captivated by him. Her supposed love for him wasn't true at all, 'twas engendered by the poison in his skin. She was besotted. And once he had taken as much pleasure from her as he wished, the Gancanagh simply disappeared. Elaenor was desperate for him, so much that she went mad from it. She blamed the child growing in her womb, saying that if she had not become pregnant, her lover would never have left. She refused to hear the words of wisdom the village healer spoke. The healer had seen this many times, and in fact, if two of the fairy's victims ever happened to cross paths, they seemed to sense something about the other, and would fight to the death to earn his love. But he never came back, not for any of them."

Aenor's face had paled. This was nothing like the romantic story she had grown up with.

"In the end, Elaenor tried to kill her unborn child, stabbing a knife into her stomach, not to cut it out of her, but to destroy it so her lover would return to her. The healer was able to save the child, for it was nearly ready to have come out on its own, but Elaenor had cut too many of her own vitals. She did not survive to hear her half-fairy spawn take its first breath." His voice was almost confrontational, as if daring Aenor to say that he had lied.

But she knew a better way. "Swear to me, give me your word that that is the honest truth, with no trickery or alteration."

"Why ever should I do that, dearie?" Rumpelstiltskin grinned challengingly.

"I find that so far the opposite of what I've been told that I am inclined to believe that the _real_ truth is something in between, something that is neither so sinister nor so romantic." Aenor did not want to believe what he had told her, and even if he gave his word, she still intended to confront her parents about it when she got home.

"Very well, little one, I give you my solemn word that I told you only truth." His smile was sinister; he knew she didn't want to believe him. But he also knew that her parents would not continue their lies when the girl revealed that she had learned the truth.

Bounding up off the stump he'd been sitting on, Rumpelstiltskin smiled, a bright, false smile. "Well, I do hate to spin a tale and run, but look at the hour," he said, glancing up at the sun. It was more than halfway down to the western horizon. "Ta ta," he said tauntingly over his shoulder, waving as he walked into the woods and out of sight.

Aenor felt she was going to cry, but before she could let her misery slide over her completely, she heard her mother calling, and it was that tone of voice that meant she had been calling for quite some time. Aenor didn't have time to be miserable; her mother was angry. She gathered up the chipped tea-set her grandfather had made out of clay for Aenor's mother, barely taking the time to wrap the pieces carefully before putting them in the rough sack she carried them in.

* * *

><p>As they walked into another store, Ruby was telling Paige that she loved this store, and had bought most of her clubbing outfits here. But she stopped suddenly, gasped, and grabbed Paige's wrist. "That's it," she said, pointing to a mannequin. "That's totally perfect for you!"<p>

Paige looked the dummy up and down. She wasn't so sure about that outfit. But she let her excited friend lead her over the racks right behind the display. The skirt was denim and much shorter than anything Paige would pick out for herself. It wasn't quite short enough to be considered a mini-skirt, but Paige seldom wore a skirt that fell more than an inch above her knees.

Ruby was delighted to discover that the denim skirt came in different washes. The one on the display dummy was a very dark blue, and Ruby's only concern was that, with Paige's pale skin, the dark denim might have merely emphasized the stoutness of her legs. But there were several of the skirts in a lighter blue that would go much better with Paige's paleness.

But it was the top that really made Paige nervous. It was a black halter that was meant to wrap around the back. It had three sets of ties, and along the right side seam were three tiny holes. The strings from the left side of the wrap-around back were meant to be threaded through so they could be brought around to the front, while the strings from the right side of the back were simply wrapped around to the front, where the three sets of strings were to be tied. At least, that's how the mannequin was wearing it. But according to the label, the shirt claimed that it was "one size fits most." And it only took one look for Paige to be certain that those strings would never even come close to wrapping all the way around her plus-sized body.

But the worst part, in Paige's mind, was the neckline. Not the actual neckline of the top, because that was fairly modest, but the horizontal slit that went from one side to the other, at just the point to display the tops of a woman's breasts. On someone like Ruby, this would probably mean that it would show a little cleavage, and most likely her bra straps unless she went without, but Paige knew that on her, it would show a lot more, simply because there was so much more there. And Paige's bra straps would definitely show, because Paige was far too well-endowed to ever go braless. But Paige wasn't so much worried about the amount of cleavage the shirt would show. It was the fact that this slit would almost certainly show part of the mask Gold had etched onto her upper left breast. She didn't want to have to answer questions about what everyone would think was a tattoo.

Ruby had already grabbed a skirt in the size Paige had texted to her before they had gotten to the stores, and was just pulling one of the halter tops off the rack when a saleswoman approached.

"Why, Ruby!" the woman exclaimed. "We haven't seen you here for a while!" It was clear that the woman was happy to see Ruby, or at least, to see Ruby's money.

"I know," Ruby gushed. "But once Ashley started showing too much, she didn't really want to go clubbing, and it just wasn't as much fun to go by myself." Although her face remained cheerful, Paige heard something odd in Ruby's voice, something almost pained. But if the saleswoman heard it, she ignored it.

"So," the lady said, turning to Paige, "I see you found someone else to go with you!"

"Yeah," Ruby replied, "this is Paige. She's mute, but trust me, she's so much fun. This will only be her second time going with me, so I knew she'd need a new outfit." Ruby held up a bag from a lingerie store. "That halter is definitely going to show off her bra, is there any way we can take this into the dressing room with us so we can see what it will look like with the new bra she just bought?"

"Oh, well, I suppose so," the saleswoman replied as she eyed Paige up and down. The reason for her hesitation became obvious when she added, "But of course, we _do_ have a plus-sized section in the back corner."

Paige swallowed, feeling awkward. She hated it when people treated her weight like it was something embarrassing. It almost seemed like the woman was implying that the store felt the need to hide their plus-sized clothing. It wasn't just the fact that that particular section was in the back, it was the saleslady's tone of voice. Tears stung Paige's eyes.

But Ruby acted as though she hadn't noticed. "Oh, I have an idea about this, and I think it's going to look awesome on her. But if it doesn't work out, we'll look for something in the back."

The lady gave a smile that was as bright and cheerfully polite as it was fake. "Well, Ruby, you should certainly remember where the dressing rooms are. I'll make sure Jade is there to unlock one for you. Oh, wait, do you know Jade?"

"Kind of," Ruby answered. "I think she was working here the last couple of times I came in. She had just started, right?"

"That's right. And don't hesitate to give me a shout if you need anything." The lady was pointedly ignoring Paige, who was tempted to make a rude gesture at her.

"Thanks!" Ruby hooked her arm through Paige's and walked away. They could hear the saleslady contacting someone over the headset she wore.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ruby slowed and said softly, "I'm sorry, Paige. I didn't know she'd act… like _that_. But don't let her get to you, okay?" She met Paige's eyes with a compassion that made Paige want to cry for a different reason.

Paige smiled and nodded, trying to tell Ruby how grateful she was with just the look in her eyes. Ruby smiled back, squeezing Paige's arm.

Ruby had waited to join Paige in the dressing room until the girl had put on the skirt and the new bra she had bought. The bra, along with a matching pair of panties, was a solid bluish-purple. Ruby had noticed it first, and brought it to Paige because the color reminded her of blueberries, and she knew how much Paige loved Granny's blueberry pie. Paige agreed; the color was very like the shade of a ripe blueberry. As Paige tied the neck of the halter, letting the shirt drape across the front of her body, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever go back to her kingdom.

Paige hadn't wanted to let Ruby in at all, because the "tattoo" would be showing, but as Ruby had pointed out, Paige wouldn't be able to tie that shirt by herself. While she waited, Ruby asked Jade to look for something.

When Ruby came into the dressing room and didn't mention the mask, Paige had to wonder. Her first thought, however irrational, was that only she and Mr. Gold could see this mark. But somehow, that didn't seem right. Gold seemed to enjoy putting people in embarrassing situations. He would have known that she would be embarrassed to have people see this, which made it hard for her to believe that he would have been so uncharacteristically kind as to make sure no one could. But maybe Ruby just figured that it was Paige's business and no one else's.

Ruby stood behind Paige, and instead of trying to thread the strings through and bring them around front, she simply tied them across Paige's back. When Ruby stepped back, Paige blinked. As far as the front went, it looked pretty good. Yeah, it showed the supposed tattoo, and quite a bit of cleavage as well, but it looked a lot better than Paige had expected it to. And the skirt, while still a lot shorter than she would have liked, looked pretty good, too.

Ruby squealed. "It looks so good on you!"

Paige let Ruby lead her out of the dressing room and to the end of the little hallway of doors, where there were three mirrors angled together so you could look at your outfit from several points of view. Paige could feel air against her back, and when she reached the mirrors, the first thing she did was turn so she could see her back as well as she could.

The shirt actually went most of the way around, leaving only about an inch on either side of her spine showing. This meant that all the spots Paige was most self-conscious about were hidden, while still showing skin. Of course, her bra straps and the back of her bra showed, but Paige had a shrug at home that would mostly hide it.

Just then, the girl who had let them into the dressing room came back, with three boxes in her arms. She was blond, with bright green eyes. Paige knew her from the class she and Emma attended at the gym. She had always reminded Paige slightly of Mark's fiancée, Sammi, but when she asked about it through a text message to Ruby, it turned out that she was actually Mark's sister. Maybe it was just the color of their eyes; Sammi's eyes weren't as fierce and free as Jade's, but they were the same shade of green.

"I only found these three," Jade said to Ruby, but as soon as she noticed Paige's outfit, she said, "Wow! That looks great! I never would have thought of tying it in the back like that!"

"I know, right?" said Ruby. "I think it makes the shirt even sexier."

"You know, I would never have the guts to wear a bra with a shirt like that, but then again, it's not too difficult for me to go without. But seriously, though, it looks great on you," Jade said to Paige.

When Paige made the sign to thank Jade, Ruby translated it and told her that Paige was mute. About that time, Ruby had gotten all three boxes open. "Oh, the middle ones. That's it, that's perfect."

When Paige investigated, she saw that all three boxes contained heels, some strappier than others. The ones in the middle box, the heels Ruby liked best, were five-inch platform heels, but unlike the stilettos in the other two boxes, they had a thick, chunky heel that would be easier to balance on. The wide straps would cross her foot just above the toes, and that was it. They were simple, and Paige found she that she liked the look of them. She had come out of the dressing room in bare feet, so she sat down on the nearby bench and slid the heels on. When she stood back up, she found that they were pretty easy to walk in, despite their height.

Paige was a little confused. She felt awkward about how much leg was showing, and how much tattoo, and even how much of her back. She wasn't sure she should buy this outfit, but the saleslady's comment about the plus-size section kept going through her head. And suddenly, Paige decided that she was going to do it.

[This is it, ru. This is what i'm wearing wednesday.]

"Yay," Ruby exclaimed, hugging Paige. She had noticed how awkward Paige had originally felt, and she was glad to see Paige owning it now. Because now that the decision had been made, Paige looked anything but awkward.

* * *

><p>Ruby was meeting Ashley for dinner, and as soon as she and Paige had decided to go shopping, Ruby had texted to ask if it was okay to bring Paige along. Ashley didn't have a problem with it, so now that they'd found an outfit, they made their way to the Chinese restaurant.<p>

They got there a little early, so while they were waiting for Ashley to get there, Ruby asked, "I know it's none of my business, but what's with your tattoo?"

Paige swallowed. [What do you mean,] she texted.

"Well, it looks nice and all, but why a mask with a big nose?" When Paige didn't start texting again, Ruby said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

[No, that's okay, i'm just trying to think of the best way to explain it,] came the answering text. But really, Paige was scrambling for a reason Ruby would accept. Saying, I made a deal with a sketchy fairy-tale character and this mark is supposed to burn when it's time to uphold my end of the bargain, seemed like a really bad idea.

After a moment, Paige texted Ruby again. [This is to remind me that everyone wears a mask. You never really know what someone is like behind their mask until you hit bad times. Then you get to see what people are really like. Who abandons you, who's there for you, and who takes advantage of you.]

As Paige had intended, this reminded Ruby of Paige's painful past. She made the natural assumption that Paige had gotten that particular tattoo because she had trusted the guys she'd met online, and they had betrayed that trust. "Are you sure you're okay with showing it? I mean, I never even knew you _had_ a tattoo, so I'm assuming you don't usually show it."

[No, i don't, but i didn't want to give that saleslady the satisfaction of seeing me pick something out of the plus-size section. Besides, i don't usually show anywhere near that much skin, either. But i'm trying to come to terms with the way i look. And i look pretty awesome in that outfit...]

Ruby grinned at her friend. "Damn straight, you do!"

* * *

><p>Giggling as he walked away from Aenor, Rumpelstiltskin headed for his next victim. The boy would be out playing at swords, but since he had no friends, he would be alone. His parents had forbidden him to practice the sword by himself, but like any other thirteen-year-old boy, that only made him more determined. So he had begun to play in a place where his parents didn't care to go – near his supposedly-crazy uncle's shack. Yes, that would do nicely…<p>

* * *

><p>The boy was murmuring to himself. "Parry, thrust! Parry, thrust!" He did not seem particularly gifted, but as he had no actual opponent against whom to test himself, it was hard to be sure. He had envisioned many great adventures for himself, saved dozens of pretend princesses, and slain several imaginary dragons. Once, he had even played at beheading a make-shift gorgon, but he had made his mock-up look a little too realistic. It had given him nightmares, so he had destroyed the gorgon-head he had made and swore never to play that game again.<p>

He worked until he collapsed, hoping that his sheer determination would make him a better swordsman. His family was not poor; they could afford swordplay lessons. But his parents said that learning the sword just because he wanted to was foolish nonsense. They said that if there was ever a draft for the Royalist army, he could learn the sword for free in one of their training camps. For their village was one of those that was under the protection of the Royalist faction. This land had not had a king for over 40 years, and the various factions waged battles all the time, trying to crown their own candidate.

After resting for a bit, he stood, intending to start again. But he heard a twig snap, sounding like it was just out of sight. A strange voice whispered his name. "Felix. Felix!"

"Who's there?" The boy held out his wooden practice sword as if it were the real thing, looking around. His first thought was of his older sister, but she had died last winter after the ice broke underneath her. What she had been doing out on the frozen lake, no one seemed to know. She had gotten so sick afterward that she had died.

Then Felix's face paled. What if it _was_ his sister, or rather, her spirit?

"Follow me," the voice whispered. "Follow, follow, follow." It grew fainter with each repetition of the word.

Felix was raised in a superstitious area, and if the spirits of the dead returned, you were not to follow them, not ever! He was raised to believe that, not matter how kind the person in life, the dead are jealous of the living, and if they can touch the mortal plane once more, they use that opportunity to lure a person to his or her death. The dead wish only to prevent the living from having what was stolen from them: a future.

So Felix did as he had been taught, and went immediately in the opposite direction. Any time he heard that voice, he changed direction so he was heading away from it again. Eventually, a small shack appeared. Any time Felix tried to turn away, the voice sounded in front of him, turning him back to the rundown shack. And so it was that Rumpelstiltskin herded Felix to the very place the boy was forbidden to go.

* * *

><p>Felix had eventually knocked on the door, seeking refuge from what he thought was his dead sister's vengeful spirit. He knew that his crazy uncle lived here, the one who had gone away to fight for the Royalist faction and come back spouting nonsense. Felix's father said that he must have been hurt in a battle, that his wits had been addled by the nonsense of war.<p>

But Uncle Damian didn't seem crazy at all. He smiled sadly, saying, "I've watched you, boy, but I knew better than show myself." His voice was bitter. "I can't even teach my own nephew how to use a sword properly, because they don't want to hear the truth."

"What do you mean, Uncle?" Felix had never heard anything about any "truth."

"What I mean, boy, is that I learned something while I was away. I found something out about our family, something that could change our lives forever." Uncle Damian _did_ look a little bit crazed when he said that. But before Felix could sort out his misgivings, his uncle lowered his voice and asked, "If you will swear to keep this a secret, boy, I will teach you the sword."

Felix almost forgot to breathe. He knew his uncle had been in the army, so of course Damian knew all about sword fighting. And if all he had to do was listen to stories that might be a little odd, well, it was surely worth it! "Yes, Uncle Damian, I swear!" he exclaimed fervently.

"That's a good boy," replied Damian. "Now everyone else thinks I'm crazy because I can't find any concrete proof, but boy, we are descended from King Rolph himself!"

Felix's eyes grew wide. "We are? But how distant?" This was a question everyone asked about the supposed relations to the royal family. The Royalist faction's current leader was descended from a cousin-by-marriage to their second-to-last king, meaning that he was not blood-related at all.

"Only from father to son, boy!" Damian's eyes shone with his feverish excitement. "We are the direct descendants of King Fiero's younger son!" Felix could understand why his family thought Uncle Damian was crazy, but the boy was young, and still had dreams of being so good at leading men, at conquering his enemies, that he would be made a general, or maybe even a king. If what his uncle said was true, he already had the right to be a king.

"And let me tell you this, boy," Damian continued. "If your father would just agree to the terms of the deal, we could get proof of it!"

Feeling a sudden apprehension, Felix asked, "What deal?"

Even though no one else would even be nearby, Damian gave a furtive look around before he answered, "I found someone who can get us that proof, my boy. But we would have to pay him for his help. You can never get something for nothing, you know. But your father would not even listen to me. You could be growing up a prince if my stubborn brother would listen to reason!" Damian made an irritated sound in his throat. "He never could get past the idea that being older than me made him right whenever we argued. Which is a load of sheep's dung, boy, don't ever believe that old lie." It was part of the superstition of the area that, if two siblings fought, the older child was in the right.

"I have no siblings, Uncle, not anymore." Felix's eyes went misty with memory. He had often lost arguments to his sister for the very same reason that his father would not listen to his uncle. A thought struck him then. "I will become king of this land, Uncle. If not me, then my son. I swear it," Felix said, his face absolutely serious. "And when I am king, I will _make_ people stop believing in such foolish superstitions. For you, Uncle. And for me," he added sadly.

* * *

><p>Outside, Rumpelstiltskin smirked from his perch by the window. He sat on the stack of firewood as if it were an elegant throne on which he had chosen to lounge, graceful even in the humble surroundings of this pitiful shack. Having heard enough, he leaped elegantly down without making a sound or disturbing a single twig and sauntered away.<p>

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold knocked before opening the door. He could hear the television, so he knew that Paige was nearby. Sure enough, she was lounging on her couch in a long nightgown with short sleeves, watching a movie. At least, she had been until he came in, then she stared at him with an odd look in her eyes. He smirked to himself; that look said that she knew what he would be expecting, and that she was embarrassed by it. Not so much embarrassed at what they would be doing, but because she was beginning to accept that she wanted to do it.<p>

"Hello, Paige," he said with a knowing grin. "I do hope you enjoyed your day off." When she nodded, almost hesitantly, he continued. "I'm just going to make us a cup of this new tea." He held up a small paper sack, through which Paige could see the corners of a box, then disappeared into the kitchen before Paige could ask about it.

When he came back out several minutes later, he brought a tray that held an actual tea set. It had belonged to Paige's mother, and she felt a lump in her throat. She remembered her mother, in this world and the one that was, staging little tea parties. In both sets of memories, she had been very young, and being allowed to use her mother's fine china tea set had seemed like the most wonderful responsibility. Paige hadn't even heard Gold getting it out of the mirrored china cabinet in her dining area, but when she glanced in that direction, she noticed Gold's suit jacket draped over the back of a chair.

Mr. Gold gave no indication that he had noticed Paige's emotional response, and he poured them both some tea. The sugar bowl was very obviously missing, and the little pitcher that would normally hold cream was filled with honey. It was Gold's preferred sweetener for tea, and Paige had to agree that it gave the tea a fuller, bolder flavor than sugar. But since there was no cream, Paige assumed that this tea would need only the honey.

His practiced eye carefully measuring how much honey he was using, Gold added it a little at a time, tasting the tea frequently. Once he was satisfied, he added the same amount of honey to Paige's cup and handed it to her. "Here you go, dove," he said. He watched her face as she took the first sip.

Smiling as he watched her eyes widen in delight, Gold said, "I just happened to see this on the shelf when I was buying my Earl Grey. It's called, True Blueberry. I thought you might like it."

Paige put her cup down to sign, **I do, it's delicious!** After a moment, she added, **Thank you.**

"You're quite welcome, Paige." He gave her a slight leer. "Now go on, then, drink up.

They drank their tea to the soft sounds of the television, which Paige had turned down when Gold brought the tea out. Gold removed his shoes and socks, setting them off to one side.

After she drank her fill of tea, Paige turned to Mr. Gold. She had heard some news recently, but Emma wouldn't talk about it, saying that she couldn't discuss a murder investigation, and Paige didn't want to ask Mike. She knew how upset he'd been when people first started whispering about it, and besides, he wouldn't know as much about it as Mr. Gold.

**So, I heard that Mary Margaret has been accused of murder,** she signed.

"Yes, the evidence _does_ seem to be piling up against her," Gold said, shaking his head.

**But… that Nolan lady's really dead? And they think Mary Margaret did it?**

"Some, ah, physical evidence was found, and the DNA results show that it was a match to Kathryn Nolan," Gold said, hiding his smirk. "And there was other data tying Miss Blanchard to that piece of evidence. But I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more than that. Client confidentiality, you know."

Paige looked slightly incredulous. **What does that mean, exactly?**

Confirming her suspicions, Gold replied, "I've taken on Miss Blanchard's case." He said it as if it were an obvious fact that Paige shouldn't have questioned.

**But… how can she afford your fees?** Paige didn't know what exactly he would charge to represent someone on trial, but she knew Gold. **Mary Margaret's only a teacher, she doesn't make that much money.**

"Oh, we'll work it all out," he said with a smirk that made Paige shiver. If only Mary Margaret remembered the true past, she would never have accepted what must seem like charity, not from this man. Anyone who knew what he was would know better.

But as Paige leaned back, propping herself in the corner between the back and the arm of the couch, she felt Gold's hand on her ankle. All thoughts of Mary Margaret's plight were gone. Gold was sitting on the other end of the couch, and had pushed the coffee table out away from the couch. As she watched, he turned the TV off and put the remote aside. His hand started to slide up Paige's leg, pushing the long purple nightgown up as he went.

When he reached her hips, he used the arm that was inside her nightgown to lift her hips off the couch. With the other hand, he pulled the nightgown further up, so that it was no longer pinned under her. Pulling her forward so that she was no longer leaning against the side of the couch, he swept the nightgown over her head, letting it fall to the floor. But before he could lean over Paige, she sat up further, so that they were face to face, sitting in the middle of the couch.

Taking a deep breath, Paige reached up to remove Mr. Gold's tie. After letting it fall to the floor, she undid the top button of his dress shirt. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. The expression on her face was almost that of fear. Swallowing hard, she turned her attention back to the buttons on his shirt. She couldn't face his knowing smirk and slightly-quirked eyebrow.

As she tugged the tail of his shirt out of his waistband, Paige licked her lips nervously. She only partially undressed Mr. Gold a few times before, and that only when she was preparing to give him a blow job. She had never just touched him, not above the waist, not as foreplay. Other than when she went down on him, the only times she had touched him had been when he initiated it, like the time when he told her to put her arms around him. Paige flushed as she thought of that morning, of the marks her nails had left down his back. But for the first time she could admit, if only to herself, that she wanted to try that again sometime.

Her hands slid under the now-open sides of his dress shirt, and she let her fingertips trail across his shoulders and down his arms, pushing the shirt down as she went. The barely-there brush of skin felt almost electric, and Gold drew in a shuddering breath. Paige had to stop long enough to unbutton his cuffs, and then the dress shirt was off.

With barely any hesitation, Paige slid her hands under the hem of the thin tank top Gold had worn under his dress shirt. Pressing her palms gently against his skin, Paige let her hands slide up his stomach so that the tank caught on her wrists, riding upward with the movement of her hands.

As she reached his chest, Paige licked her lips and froze for a moment. Then she brushed her fingers lightly across his nipples. Her eyes flicked up, taking in the expression on Gold's face. His eyes had half-closed as he moaned her name. Paige moved her hands around to his sides as she slid them further up his body, nudging at his arms. When he raised them above his head, Paige went up on her knees to slip the tank top off. The motion put her breasts level with his face.

Once the tank was off, Gold put his hands on Paige's ribs, keeping her up on her knees. He licked her nipples, and Paige pulled away just enough to get her hands in front of her.

**They're not nearly as tender as they were a few weeks ago,** she signed, not realizing that it had been over a month since she had told him that her breasts were too tender for rough foreplay.

Gold grinned, not bothering to correct Paige as he pulled her closer. She moved her hands so he could, putting them on Mr. Gold's shoulders to steady herself. When he brought a hand up to roll one nipple between his fingers, Paige's back arched, pushing her breasts even closer to him. At the same time, her hands tightened on his shoulders, her fingers digging slightly into his skin.

After a few moments of this, Paige lowered herself back to a seated position, drawing her fingertips down the front of Gold's body. When she reached his waist, she unbuckled his belt and drew it slowly out of the belt loops. After unbuttoning his pants, she gently pushed at his chest to let him know that she wanted him to lie back against the arm of the couch.

Once Gold had done so, Paige unzipped his pants and gripped the waistband of both his pants and his boxers. When he saw what she wanted to do, Mr. Gold lifted his hips to let her slide his pants and boxers off.

Paige sat there for a moment, just staring at Mr. Gold as he lay on her couch, naked. She stood up long enough to take off her panties, then she put one foot on the couch so that she stood astride his body. Reaching down between her legs as she lowered herself, Paige grasped him gently with her hand, holding him in position as she eased herself down onto him. She gasped, and some of the embarrassment she had felt the first time she tried this position came rushing back. Her face bright red, Paige tried to push it away. This time, she tried to listen to that little voice that told her to just stop fighting and enjoy herself.

She moved her hips up and down, experimenting until she found a pace she thought she could keep up for a while. When Mr. Gold rested his hands on her hips, she looked at him, and saw him watching her face. Once he knew that she was looking at him, he turned his eyes to her body, to the way her hips rose and fell. He drew his hands slowly up her body until he was cupping her breasts, and once they had stopped bouncing so much because he was holding them, Paige found she could move her hips a little faster. Her breasts weren't as tender as they had been, but all that bouncing had been a little painful.

Paige leaned forward slightly, so she could get some friction on the sweet spot. Her eyes closed as she found just the right angle. It wasn't long before her body writhed in orgasm. When it passed, she found herself collapsed on top of Gold, with him still inside her, still hard. He hadn't come yet.

Gold opened his mouth to remind her that he hadn't gotten his pleasure yet, but didn't get any further than her name before Paige put her hands on the arm of the couch, on either side of his head. Propping herself up in what almost looked like a push-up position, Paige started to move her hips up and down again. But her legs were tired, and she couldn't keep that up for long, so she lowered herself all the way down and began to grind her hips against him, back and forth at first. Then, wondering how he would react, she started rotating her hips in a slow circle.

When Gold moaned for her, Paige circled her hips a little faster. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations. But when she felt something brush her nose, she opened her eyes to find Gold's face only a scant few inches from her own. It seemed that, when she hadn't been looking, she had lowered her upper body until she was very nearly lying flat on top of Mr. Gold. Her hair made a soft red curtain around their faces, making it seem even more private and intimate

Paige leaned her face down again to nuzzle his nose with her own, intentionally this time. It felt a bit strange at first, but Paige decided that she liked it. A blush rose to her cheeks as a part of her felt horrified at the intimacy of it all, so in the hope that she could make that part of her shut up, Paige leaned a little closer and kissed Mr. Gold.

The kiss started out fairly chaste, but just as it began to deepen, Paige pulled away, her body going rigid. She was close, so very close, to another orgasm, and she wanted to time things so that she and Gold came together this time. He had always seemed to know how to time things just right, and now that she was in control and finally letting herself enjoy it, she wanted to do the same for him.

"Almost, dove," he said, his voice husky. "Almost there."

Paige remained still above him until she was sure she could last a bit longer, then she sat up. She knew that if she kept stimulating the sweet spot against his body, she wouldn't make it, so she shifted the leg that was on the couch until she could lean back slightly. She supported herself with one hand on the back of the couch and the other stretched out behind her to rest on Gold's thigh. She started making a rippling motion with her torso, like a wave that started at her ribcage and rolled down to end with her hips. It looked like something a belly dancer would do, and Gold didn't know where Paige had gotten the idea to try that, but it worked. Not only did it feel amazing, but it looked incredibly sexy as well.

It didn't take long before it was Gold's turn to try to hold back. But before he could say anything, Paige sensed the change in his body and leaned forward, her face nearly touching his again. Within moments, Gold cried out Paige's name as they orgasmed at almost the same time. Afterward, Paige collapsed on top of him, her shallow, panting breath seeming loud in his ear. Whatever perfume she was wearing smelled good, even when mingled with the smell of sex in the air.

* * *

><p>Once they had recovered and cleaned themselves up, Gold turned to Paige with a smirk on his face. "That was amazing, dove," he said. "Although I have to admit, I never imagined that your second time on top would be <em>that<em> much better than the first."

Paige blushed furiously as she tried to figure out what to say. Part of her wanted to say, I told you so, but that part of her that was shocked and embarrassed by the things she wanted was mortified that she had done so well that she had surprised him this much.

Gold thought about letting her off the hook by saying something more, but it was just too much fun to watch her squirm. So he just looked at her, almost expectantly.

**Like I said, **she finally signed, **that time in the shop, I had never done it before and I was terrified of getting caught.**

"Ah, and you were not afraid of getting caught here, is that it?" Gold's smirk deepened, which made Paige blush even harder. "Well, I should probably be heading out now. Your young man will be home any minute." He still called Michael her young man, even though he knew it wasn't true. But as always, he couldn't help but push those buttons. He left Paige standing there in her nightgown, her face red as her embarrassment warred with her desire.

* * *

><p>Finding a particularly succulent patch of berries, Aenor threaded her way through the surrounding briars without a scratch. It was one of the perks of being part-fairy, although she was not as good at it as her mother. By the time she had stripped the bushes, as many berries had gone into her mouth as had made it into the bucket. As she twined her way back out of the briar patch, Aenor heard voices. It sounded like two boys, arguing.<p>

"Ryan, you fop," the older boy said. "This is nowhere near the Swamp of No Return!"

Aenor peered at them through a bush. Neither boy appeared to fit the definition of "fop," but it _had_ sounded like an insult. Perhaps the boys disliked fops. As Aenor understood it, foppish men did tend to be rather useless. As they continued their argument, Aenor thought about fops, until her imagination conjured up the image of the two arguing boys dressed foppishly. She giggled, then tried to stifle it as she realized, too late, that they would hear that.

"Who is there," the older boy asked, a ring of command in his voice. "Show yourself!"

"I'm sorry," Aenor said, edging around the bush.

"Oh, it's just a girl," the younger boy exclaimed distastefully. He looked like he was about fourteen or fifteen. His friend with the commanding voice was older, seventeen.

"Do you live around here," asked the older boy, speaking kindly. "We seem to be lost." When Aenor just stared nervously, he added, "My name is Owen. How may I address you?"

Shyly, she answered, "I am called Aenor."

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold strode into the noisy club as if he owned the place. Which, of course, he did – at least, the building, anyway. He had arrived a day early to collect the rent, but he knew no one would complain, at least not to him. After conducting his business, he headed for the club's bar, as he often did.<p>

The bartender saw him coming and had his drink ready for him by the time he reached his accustomed stool. When the bartender murmured something polite, Gold nodded absently. He was scanning the crowd, looking for Paige. She had told him that she wouldn't need him to keep her company tonight, since Mike expected to be home from poker night by 3 AM at the latest, and she and Ruby might well be here at the club for longer. He had sensed something strange in her when she told him. There was a certain hesitation mixed with excitement, and he wanted to know why.

When he finally saw her, he understood. He had never seen her show that much flesh in public. It was a very sexy outfit, and he absently wondered how Ruby had talked her into buying it. He smirked as he realized that the slit in the shirt showed part of the mark he had given her.

Ruby and Paige were dancing with each other, a sensual rhythm that was meant to be provocative and was aimed at the men in the club. It certainly was interesting to see Paige dancing like that, and with another girl, besides.

Ruby was wearing tight black jeans with a few holes in them, but the holes looked contrived. She had probably bought them like that. She had black boots on with almost no heel to them and a thick band of gray fur around the top. Her long arms were covered in sleeves that were made out of mesh, but the rest of the mesh shirt was hidden under a dark gray sleeveless vest that zipped up the front and was trimmed in fur was almost a match for the fur on her boots.

Suddenly, the young man responsible for the loud music made an announcement, but Gold wasn't quite sure what he said. Something about Ruby and her friend, it sounded like. When he looked back, the girls were gone. But then he caught sight of them on a raised stage near the DJ's booth. Another loud song came on, and everyone on the floor watched Paige and Ruby dance.

Paige was clearly not as practiced as Ruby, but she did well enough, and although he didn't care for song, the lyrics were certainly interesting. The chorus contained the line "take it off" several times. During one of the verses, Ruby unzipped her vest while the singer crooned, "lose your mind, lose it now, lose your clothes in the crowd." With her back to the rest of the club, she slid the vest off and tossed it out into the impromptu audience as she turned, revealing that she wore only a blood-red bra under that mesh shirt.

Near the end, where the line "take it off" was repeated frequently, Ruby stood behind Paige and reached around to undo the three buttons on the front of Paige's shrug, then pulled it off. As Paige continued dancing, she turned her back to the club for a few moments. Gold raised his eyebrows at the back of the shirt – or rather, the lack thereof. He smirked; it had definitely been worth his time to pick the rent up early.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode, "The Heart of Darkness."

True Blueberry is a flavor of tea that is manufactured by a company called "Celestial Seasonings." It is one of my favorite teas, and Mr. Gold prefers honey over sugar because that's how I like to sweeten my tea.

The song Ruby and Paige dance to is "Take It Off" by Kesha. **I do not own any rights to this song. I am not in any way affiliated with the artist or the studio that produced this song.** And a big thanks to my sister, who told me I needed to hear this song… (also, she's the one who suggested that Mr. Gold bring Paige tea, which ties the chapter together quite nicely, don't you think?)

I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	16. S1 Ch16 - Pursuit Of Happiness

So here is the new chapter! As always, I own only the characters that have sprung from my own imagination.

The Fairy Tale side of this one picks up where Chapter 9 left us, with the hag Miranda giving up her eyes, and then spans a nearly thirty-year period.

Just a heads-up: there is a flashback scene in this chapter, and it is in italics.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>"I can save you from him," Rumpelstiltskin said to the exhausted new mother lying in a nest of blankets in front of the fireplace.<p>

He had found few descendants of any union between a human and a fairy, or few that would work, anyway. Almost one year ago, he had met with a young girl whose eventual marriage into royalty had been easy to assure, and if he used the daughter that girl would one day bear, he very well might have use for the infant clutched in the hag's arms. But he did not ask for the babe. Instead, he finished his sentence with, "but I'll be needing your eyes, dearie."

"My… eyes?" The hag was shocked, he could tell. He smirked as he watched her face. It was obvious that she was wondering what use he could have for a pair of eyes.

After a moment, he said, "He'll find you here eventually, doll. Your fake spell saw to that." He grinned wickedly, knowing that she had already decided that her baby's safety was worth it. The thought that he always knew how to get what he wanted made him laugh aloud.

The sound of Rumpelstiltskin's laughter startled Miranda. She looked up at the impish man with wide eyes. Then she said, "You may have them, Dark One. If you swear to me that he will never find us, I will pay your price."

"Oh, he won't find you, dearie. Unless you or your little one do something… stupid. Something that might… draw attention." Rumpelstiltskin eyed Miranda shrewdly.

"But if I stay here in the swamp, if I have contact with no one, will this place be safe?"

"Indeed, I can certainly guarantee that if you do just that, he will never find you here." The slyness on his face sent chills down Miranda's spine. In truth, the spell he planned to use did not require her to stay here, but if he did need to use her infant, he knew it would be easier to convince the girl to make a deal if she grew up in this wretched place.

Perhaps reacting to her mother's fear, little Lilura began to cry. Miranda put a hand to the neck of her shift, but stopped. "I should feed her now."

"Dunnae stop on my account," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Although, if I am to find this hulking man you've been running from, I _will _need to conclude this deal and be on my way. 'Twould be a shame if he found you before I find him." That was, of course, nearly impossible for someone with Rumpelstiltskin's power, but he knew the hag was desperate. Rumpelstiltskin wanted to finish this business so he could get back to his own work. Even though he had time, yet, he wanted to have his preparations well in hand. He would _not_ suffer that cage in the world to which his curse would take everyone.

* * *

><p>As Rumpelstiltskin strode away from the hovel, he tucked a small, silk-covered box into a hidden pocket. He could see the steps lining up before him, steps that may prove unnecessary if he didn't need young Aenor and her spawn. But for the time being, he would take those steps. He would be prepared for any eventuality.<p>

* * *

><p>"Look, if you don't want to have dinner with my family, then just say so," Mark said, clearly exasperated. He was frustrated by his own inability to admit to Sammi that he didn't have feelings for her. Even though he knew he shouldn't take it out on her, he couldn't seem to stop. But part of him was also scornful of the way she always tried to avoid a fight. She always wanted to make things go smoothly, and life just wasn't like that. Life was messy, chaotic, and it irritated him to see her strive so hard to make everyone happy.<p>

"That's not what I meant, Mark," Sammi replied, even though that was exactly what she had meant. "I just – I mean, you've been saying how your mother hasn't been feeling well lately, and I thought that maybe we should give _her_ the choice. You know I'm not her favorite person. Far from it." Sammi wished she knew why Mark's mother was so antagonistic, but maybe it was just her illness that was causing her bad mood. Sammi wondered, but didn't feel like she could ask Mark, if lupus could cause irritability.

"Look, Sam, I understand that it has to be hard for you," Mark said. "My mother seems to resent you, and maybe it's because she's afraid that you're stealing me from her, I don't know. But you can't please all the people all the time, and trying to will just make _your_ life miserable. You can be a bitch once in a while and people will still like you. And anyone who doesn't can go screw themselves; you're better off without them."

"Mark, why are you being like this? This is who I am, and you should know that by now," Sammi said, struggling with the anger she so rarely displayed. "I can't help being nice when it's in my nature. And you know I don't appreciate the "b" word."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Mark answered in a tone that was more annoyed than apologetic. "But you don't have to be so _nice_ all the time!"

Sammi turned away from her fiancé. "Can we please just not do this? I don't want to fight with you."

"That's exactly what I mean," Mark said.

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you describe my supposed faults," Sammi said, grabbing her coat. She was so angry she couldn't even get the coat on.

Mark noticed, and said, "You see? If you're mad, then just _be_ mad and get it over with. You can't just bottle it up and hope it goes away. Feelings don't work like that."

Wishing she had not agreed to meet him for lunch, Sammi gave up and slung the coat around her shoulders. "Call me when you can be bothered to recognize me as the woman you fell in love with." She stalked out, calling a hurried apology when she nearly knocked someone over. It was that new guy in town, the writer with the motorcycle. She couldn't remember his name.

Ruby, who had been approaching the table when Sammi walked out, tried to pretend she hadn't seen anything.

"Sorry about that," Mark said to her. But his thoughts were wandering. He couldn't remember ever having fallen in love with Sammi. Why had he ever proposed to someone he didn't even love? He wished his memory of that night were a little clearer, but even though it was only two years ago, nothing about that moment was clear. He couldn't even remember if he'd gone down on one knee like guys always seemed to do in the movies.

"You know," Ruby said, half conversationally and half pretending to scold, "you should just say you're sorry. That should clear up the whole mess."

Mark chuckled. "Even though I'm not?" At Ruby's look, he explained, "Sometimes people need to hear the hard truths. And who else should tell them to you but the person you love?" He felt a huge lump in his throat when he used that word.

"Well," Ruby said, acceding his point, "you don't have to say what you're sorry for. Most women will take an apology to mean that you're sorry for what _she_ thinks you did, when really you might just be saying sorry because you're sorry she took it wrong. If you don't explain it, she can take it at face value and you guys can make up."

Mark chuckled again. "I don't know, maybe I'll try that. But I think I'll let her cool down a bit, first."

"Well, duh," Ruby teased, clearing Sammi's dishes. In a normal voice, she asked, "I guess you're not in the mood for desert, huh?"

"Not really," said Mark wryly.

"I'll be right back with your check," Ruby said, heading for the kitchen to drop off the dirty dishes.

* * *

><p>Ruby clasped her hands together and stretched her long arms up over her head. It had been a busy day. "Granny, I'm going out," she called as she left the kitchen to go change out of her work clothes.<p>

"Again?" Granny didn't sound happy, so Ruby leaned against the wall, half her body still showing through the doorway.

"Ashley texted me, she wants to go to dinner so we can plan a dress-shopping day." Ruby bit her lip. She knew old habits died hard, both for her and her grandmother, and it felt like she was asking permission. She intended to go no matter what, but for some reason she wanted her grandmother's approval this time. Ever since Granny had said she intended for Ruby to inherit the business, Ruby had come to realize that she actually did respect her grandmother, a fact she had lost sight of somewhere along the line.

Granny frowned, but it was somehow not as disapproving as it could have been. "Oh, well, if that's the case, you tell her she needs to bring that baby around more often." And that was all Granny said before turning back to the pies she was making.

Ruby smiled, understanding that Granny had given, not permission, but something more like approval. She went back into the kitchen and hugged her grandmother from behind.

"What's that for," Granny asked, trying to sound stern and failing.

"Oh, nothing," Ruby said. "Just 'cause."

Granny smiled as Ruby stepped jauntily out of the room.

* * *

><p>Brock knelt. The tracks were fading fast, and he wanted to be sure that it was Miranda who had come this way. He had to save her from that monstrous <em>thing<em> growing inside of her. At first, he had been hurt that she had run from him, but then he realized that the unborn witch must already have enough power to control Miranda. And, as witches do, it did not hesitate to use Miranda in a foolish attempt to preserve its own life. Brock had seen this kind of heartless behavior before.

Once he felt sure he was still on the right track, he stood, pivoting to face the direction this particular trace indicated. But a figure stood there, a figure that set off every witch-sense Brock had. How had this sinister creature gotten so close without him sensing its approach?

Without waiting for it to attack first, Brock ran forward, drew his sword, and struck, all in one smooth motion. When his sword met no resistance, he grunted and whirled, trying to find the creature again. Even as he did so, he pulled his hipflask out of its loop and popped the cap, pouring a small measure of the contents onto his sword. Before he had even half-finished his circle, he was putting the hip flask back and grabbing his flint. By the time he had finished circling, he was striking the flint against the sword, setting the liquid on fire.

But the imp was nowhere to be found. Brock closed his eyes, scanning with his witch-senses, then turned to one side and leaped up, grabbing a tree branch with one hand while his other stabbed the now-flaming sword higher into the tree. He could see the imp's smirking face among the leaves. There were also two strange glints of light, as of two eyes, but more level with the creature's chest. Buttons, perhaps? But Brock was certain the imp's shirt was laced rather than buttoned… but it mattered not; this creature needed to die. The glints winked out; probably just some toggles or buttons or some sort of decoration that had caught the light from Brock's sword.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled from somewhere behind Brock. The witch-hunter whirled again, using that sound alone to aim his sword straight into the imp's foul heart. When he could see the creature, could see his sword hurtling toward it, he noticed that one hand was tucking a small box into his jacket. Perfect, the disgusting thing was distracted!

Except that Rumpelstiltskin put up the first two fingers of his other hand and turned the fiery blade aside with a touch too light for the flames to burn him. The sword made a loud _thunk_ as it buried itself in a tree trunk. The slow-burning liquid was more than half gone now, and small, flaming drops of it began to fall. Fortunately, the forest here was lush, and the fires that were started put themselves out when they tried to burn the moisture-rich greenery.

But Brock had not waited for the sword to hit its mark, and he reached Rumpelstiltskin a moment after his sword was deflected, with his long dagger held high. As he plunged it down toward the imp's face, Rumpelstiltskin's hand went up, almost lazily, and caught Brock's wrist lightly. Or so it seemed, but Brock was unable to free his wrist, so he flexed the trapped hand, tossing the dagger toward his other hand. He almost didn't catch the dagger, but when he did, he aimed it for his opponent's stomach and stabbed viciously, only to find that hand caught as well.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled again, a superior smirk on his face. "Not much of a fight, eh, 'Fire Sword?'" Brock gave a wordless growl of frustration, but he hadn't given up yet. He pulled away as hard as could, even though he knew he would not get free. But when he was sure the foul creature had shifted its strength into preventing Brock from pulling away, he suddenly threw himself forward, aiming his teeth for Rumpelstiltskin's throat. He knew that he would be disgusted later, and he even suspected that a creature this evil and this powerful might be able to poison him with its own blood, but there would be time to worry about both objections later.

But Rumpelstiltskin simply blew a sudden breath into the witch-hunter's face. Brock sagged in the impish little man's grip for a moment, before Rumpelstiltskin let go. When Brock fell to the ground, he tried to figure out what was wrong with him. He'd had some pretty strange things happen to him in hunts, and had heard stranger stories from some of his Brothers. But nothing could have prepared him for this. He had lost something, something precious, something – indefinable. But what? What could this imp have taken from him?

"So this is how the Brotherhood hunts? You were better than the others I've met, true, but still so – inept." Rumpelstiltskin strode around Brock's prone form until he could see the hunter's face. He squatted down to look the big man in the eye. "You will never find her now," he gloated.

Brock's mouth worked, but nothing came out. Rumpelstiltskin merely grinned. Finally, Brock croaked, "Miranda!"

"That's right, dearie, she is lost to you. She could stand right before your very face and you would not know her. Such a pity, really," he said, but not as if he meant it.

"Why?" Brock couldn't seem to move, and he didn't know if it was something the imp had done or if he was simply in shock.

"I'm only doing what I was asked, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said, putting his hands up, palms out in a conciliatory gesture. "You know what they say, don't kill the messenger!" He laughed then, a cackle that raised the hair on the back of Brock's neck.

"That filthy unborn witch made her do it!" Brock knew without a doubt that Miranda would never have wanted this.

"Well, it's not unborn any longer," Rumpelstiltskin remarked in an amused tone.

"Please," Brock said, "if you are what I think you are, you can help me."

"What," Rumpelstiltskin asked, pretending to be shocked, "is a devout Brother of the Hunt asking for help of a darker nature?"

"I would make a deal with you, imp," Brock said, knowing that something inside of him had broken. Something he probably couldn't repair.

"Well, that might be a problem," Rumpelstiltskin said airily. "You see, dearie, I don't need anything from you just now."

"I could owe you. I would do anything to get my Miranda back."

"My, my, aren't we getting possessive," Rumpelstiltskin smirked, standing smoothly. "But I see no reason to help you find her in the here and now, when I'm not even sure you will _ever_ be able to repay me."

"Please, isn't there something, some labor, some menial task that I could perform? If you need something built, I will build it. If you need someone killed, I will kill him, anything!" Brock had managed to twist around until he had gotten up on his knees, where he stayed as he begged.

"Well," Rumpelstiltskin mused, "there isn't anything just now." Brock started begging again, promising anything, and Rumpelstiltskin raised a hand to cut off the flow of words. "But there _may_ be something in the future. Some small triviality. But, of course, that's only if things go a certain way." He tapped his lips with his fingers. "If I need the forest child's brat… Yes, but it wouldn't be for some years, yet."

"I will do it, I swear to you! Just let me find Miranda!"

"I cannae help you find her until you have paid me. As I have said, those events may not even come to pass, and if they do not, well, who knows if something else will come up?" Rumpelstiltskin gave a high-pitched giggle.

"How long," Brock asked hoarsely.

"'Twill be many a long year," Rumpelstiltskin replied mockingly.

Brock looked defeated. "How will I know when the time has come? How will I find you?"

"Oh, you won't find me, dearie. _I'll_ find _you._" With another sinister giggle, Rumpelstiltskin turned away.

"Wait!" cried Brock. "What do I do? Until then?"

Rumpelstiltskin half-turned and gave a small shrug. "Pass the time how you will, I care not."

As the impish man walked away, gloating, he patted his jacket, feeling the squared edges of the small box he had tucked into the hidden pocket. Miranda's eyes had already proven useful.

Meanwhile, Brock had begun to sob; long, loud sounds of raw grief.

* * *

><p>Paige had just put some chicken into the skillet when she heard a knock at her door. Sighing, she turned off the burner and hurried to see who it was. She hoped it would be Mike, wanting to know what she was making for dinner.<p>

And it was, but there was a catch.

"Hey, Paige," Mike said when Paige greeted him. He pretended not to notice how elated she was that he was at her door. "I was wondering what's for dinner tonight?"

**Nothing too fancy,** Paige replied. **Just that chicken and garden vegetable skillet. You know, the one with the bread crumbs on top?**

Mike licked his lips. "Yeah, I know the one. Will there be enough to go around?"

**Of course, Mike. You know I never bother with trying to halve or quarter recipes. **Paige had always felt that doing so was far too much work, and even when she ate alone, she always knew she could package up the leftovers for work the next day. Mr. Gold never turned down a chance to eat her cooking, even re-heated.

"But, um, would there be enough for three, total?" Mike looked a little awkward as he asked this, and for one split second, she was sure he meant Mr. Gold. But Mike seemed to really despise Gold now.

**Who did you have in mind?** Paige's hands were trembling ever so slightly.

"Well, it's Mark," he answered. "He's, um, been fighting with Sammi recently. Apparently they were at lunch yesterday and she got so mad at him that she walked out, and he hasn't heard from her since. She won't return his calls or texts, and he seems pretty down about it."

Paige fought down the stirrings of irritation. This would be the first time Mike had come over for dinner since before their fight, and Paige didn't want to have a third wheel along. And not just any third wheel, but a depressed and possibly emotionally needy third wheel. But the pleading look in Mike's eyes swayed her, and she simply signed, **Call him. There will be plenty.**

Mike was so grateful that he hugged Paige, which made her want to cry. She wished he wouldn't act like this was such a big deal, partly because, to her, it _was._ "Thanks, Paige," he whispered in her ear as he squeezed her for a moment. And then it was over, he had let go and stepped away before Paige could try to hug him back.

**I'd better get back to the stove,** Paige signed. She didn't care if Mike believed she had left the burner on; she just didn't want him to see her tears.

* * *

><p>Paige found herself critiquing Mark all through dinner. She knew it was partly her resentment, but that didn't change the fact that Mark tended to be rather arrogant, and frequently said things that could have seemed like a joke if one assumed Mark had a rude sense of humor, but Paige sensed that Mark often hid behind that assumption. He seemed to enjoy saying rude things to people, and he meant them, but he didn't correct anyone who took it as a rather impolite joke. Perhaps that was why Sammi had gotten mad at him.<p>

But all that aside, Paige was somewhat disturbed at how nonchalant Mark was tonight. Mike had said he was taking the fight hard, but he gave no indication that he cared about it at all. Paige had always been very empathetic, and she did not sense any deeper meaning in Mark's attitude. Either he was far better than most at hiding his true feelings or he was genuinely unconcerned about fighting with his fiancée.

Suddenly, Paige remembered the first time she'd met Mark, when she and Mike had gone on that double-date with the engaged couple. Her intuition had told her, even then, that they weren't as close as they pretended to be. Paige remembered wondering if the Curse had driven them apart, or if they were preparing for an arranged, loveless marriage in the world that was. There was still no way to tell, but Paige realized that she had never sensed anything from Mark that would indicate that he loved the woman he was to marry.

She watched the two young men talk animatedly, and wondered if she would ever find out for sure. But then another epiphany took Paige by surprise. Mike was interested in Mark! Had it really taken her this long to realize it, or had she been in denial this whole time? She had known Mike had feelings for Graham, but that seemed like so long ago, now. Even though she knew that Mike felt more attracted to guys than girls, she had spent so much time wishing and hoping that she usually didn't think about it too much.

What would she do if Mark returned Mike's feelings? What _could_ she do? She hadn't felt nearly so threatened by Graham; everyone knew he had been doing the Mayor, which Paige had taken as a sign that he liked girls. And also, when Emma first came to Storybrooke, Paige had heard rumors, mostly from Ruby, about Graham's obvious interest in Emma. But she didn't know anything about Mark, except that for some unknown reason, he was engaged to a woman he didn't love. Was Sammi his cover, just as Paige herself had offered to pretend for Mike?

When Mike noticed Paige's discomfort and asked about it, she replied that she wasn't feeling well. Mike immediately volunteered himself and Mark to do all the clean-up, insisting that Paige go upstairs and lie down, which she did, playing up her supposed illness.

After the guys had finished the dishes, Mike came upstairs and fussed over Paige a bit, which made her stomach clench. Mike put a cool cloth on Paige's forehead and told her that he and Mark were going to go out for a while. He swore he would be back before too long, since he had to work in the morning.

For a long time after they left, Paige lay in the darkened room. The fact that Mike had gone to so much effort to take care of her gave her hope, but that hope was spoiled by bitterness. Paige had always heard the expression, "hope springs eternal," and had known it was true, but what they didn't tell you, she thought to herself, was that sometimes, that was a bad thing. Sometimes, that constantly recurring hope only prolonged your pain.

* * *

><p>Andrew paced his mother's cottage, too agitated to sit down when she invited him to. He didn't know how to say what he had come to say.<p>

"Andrew, really," Garnet exclaimed, "you're going ruin my carpet!" It wasn't really a carpet, just a hand-woven rug that had been on this floor when Garnet arrived. It had been filthy, and although she knew little of cleaning a house, Garnet had meticulously cleaned the rug and did her best to repair the holes in it. She was quite proud of her accomplishment. Her first stitches had been made with embroidery floss, which was apparently too delicate for a rug, since those stitches had broken within only a few days. But a serving woman sometimes accompanied the man who brought her supplies, and the woman had very kindly shown Garnet how to repair the rug properly.

Stopping so suddenly that he lurched as if he would fall, Andrew said, "Sorry, Mother." But everything else he wanted to say died on his tongue.

"I am no fool, Andrew," Garnet said. "I can see that you have come here with some news, something you seem reluctant to tell me." Her heart was in her throat. It was true that she had discovered, too late, that she truly did love her elder son as well, but she didn't want to ask about him directly.

When Andrew simply sat down and put his head in his hands, Garnet tried again. "So how is my grandson?" She had been informed of his birth almost two years ago by a simple letter, unsigned, that had been tucked into a basket with a bottle of fine blueberry wine when her supplies had been delivered one day. Garnet had wept, wishing she had been more accepting of Tristan's oddities. He had been right; he was not the same kind of king his father had been, but he was still a good king. Why did such revelations come too late? Why had she been so blind before?

"Nigel is well," Andrew answered. "He toddles around everywhere, terrorizing the hounds and worrying his nanny. He still can't say my name, he calls me 'An-dew' or something like it. But he's adorable." Andrew smiled, thinking of his nephew.

"I'm glad," Garnet said, her voice trembling slightly as she suddenly feared that her son would not believe her. "I think 'tis fitting that they named him after his grandfather."

"Do you, Mother? Do you, really?" Andrew wanted to believe that his mother had changed, but he had seen her at her worst, and he could not forget it.

Garnet lowered her head. "Yes, Andrew, I do. I do not expect you to believe me, but I have had a change of heart out here, at least as far as your brother is concerned." She was silent a moment. "I still think you would make a great king, but although he is a different sort of king than your father was, and you would be, Tristan does well. I see that now."

A long moment of silence passed between them. Finally, Andrew sighed, knowing he should not put this off any longer. "Mother, I have news. 'Tis both happy and sad, I fear."

Garnet felt a cold knot in her stomach. "What is it, my son?"

"I am to take a wife," Andrew said. "But I must go to her, and not she to me. She lives in another kingdom."

Already suspecting the worst, Garnet asked anyway. "Why should she not come to you? Is that not the custom?"

"Ordinarily you would be right, Mother, my brother would have wanted to keep me here as his general. He would have made sure my bride would be brought here. But she cannot leave her kingdom. She is to be the ruling queen when her father is gone."

Her voice tight, Garnet replied, "The only kingdom I know of where a woman may rule is the Blueberry Kingdom."

"Yes, Mother," Andrew said, "I am to marry the Crown Princess Eliza of the Blueberry Kingdom. And when we are wed, her armies and my brother's armies will stage a simultaneous attack upon the Betrayer's kingdom. When it is conquered, it will be split down the middle, along a previously-arranged line, and both kingdoms will become larger. Also, the threat of attack from this side of our kingdom will have disappeared, so we will be able to let many of our fighting men return to their families, only to be mobilized in times of need. We will not need so many men when we have only the Wolfswood border to defend. It will benefit us all greatly."

"But what of me?" Garnet's voice was thick with emotion. "It will not benefit me. Am I to remain here? And shall I ever see you again?"

Andrew put his hand on his mother's shoulder. "You will be given another house, just over the new border," he answered, "as my brother negotiated. And while I will not be able to visit you as often, perhaps, you will be in my queen's kingdom, so I am certain I will still be able to visit. Perhaps my wife will even come along, and any children we may have."

" 'A flame-haired young woman will take you away from your kingdom and your family, and she shall be your queen.' Is that not what Rumpelstiltskin said?" Garnet couldn't keep the anger and resentment from her voice. "I want no visits from that red-headed harpy. You may bring your children along, of course, unless they have her wretched hair." And Garnet stood, stalking into the bedroom and slamming the door.

No matter what Andrew said, she would not come out. Finally, she coldly told him to leave immediately. He tried a few more times to coax Garnet out, but she would not answer him, so eventually, he left. Rumpelstiltskin's final admonition came back to him.

"Provided, of course, that you can keep anyone from getting murdered," the despicable little man's voice mocked, refusing to leave Andrew alone.

* * *

><p>"I believe you were looking for me, dearie?" Rumpelstiltskin leaned casually against the corner of Garnet's little cottage, smirking.<p>

Garnet suppressed her frustration; she had spent hours tramping through the forest every day for nearly a week now, calling for him, hoping to attract his attention, and only now, when she had begun to give up the hope of finding him, there he was, mocking her.

"This is your fault," she said, her voice low and threatening, but she couldn't disguise that little tremor of fear at confronting this foul creature.

With a dangerous gleam in his eye, Rumpelstiltskin asked, "Whatever do you mean, dearie?"

"My son is going off to marry that Blueberry brat! She only agreed to marry him for cruel political reasons; he will be unloved, and probably cuckold before his marriage is a month old! Everyone knows that red hair on a woman is the mark of whoredom. She will go through men like – like a bachelor in a brothel!"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned, but it wasn't a very nice grin. "Well, 'tis funny you should say that. I have certainly never heard as much, nor ever witnessed anything that would make me believe it."

He chuckled as he thought of Eliza pressing herself against him. Although she had immediately lusted after him, he knew that she was not a woman of casual lusts. She had never felt the stirrings of her sex before, and while she loved Andrew, and would no doubt be quite happy to perform her wifely duties, it was only he, only Rumpelstiltskin, who had inspired such purely physical desire in her. Yes, she wanted to have sex with Andrew, but she also wanted more, she wanted his love and affection, she wanted him by her side through good times and bad. But Eliza wanted only sex from Rumpelstiltskin, although she wouldn't be too pleased to discover the true identity of the masked man she so desired.

He didn't bother telling Garnet that her son would be very much loved, or that Eliza wasn't likely to have more than two sexual partners in her entire life, because Garnet would not have believed him.

"But that's not what I came here for, is it, dearie?"

"I want her dead," Garnet spat.

Steepling his fingers, Rumpelstiltskin said, "I thought as much. But magic cannae kill anyone."

"But you have information as well as magic, have you not?" Without giving the impish man time to answer, Garnet went on. "You could find someone who can kill her for me, someone very good at what he does. I have no doubt that there are many that either owe you a favor, or would do this in exchange for your help. I cannot pay an assassin."

"Ah, but can you pay _me?_" Rumpelstiltskin's eyes were shrewd and piercing.

"I do not know," Garnet said, her voice nearly breaking. "What do you want?"

"As always, something… _precious_," the impish man said, his smirk at its most devious.

Garnet closed her eyes, her heart aching. But not a single tear formed in her eyes as she replied, "I have but one thing left to me that I hold dear." She pulled a locket out from under the modest neckline of her gown and, unclasping it from 'round her neck, held it out to Rumpelstiltskin.

Making a pretense of condescending curiosity, Rumpelstiltskin asked, "Whatever would I want with your locket?" His words gave no hint that he already knew what it contained.

"It holds… it holds a lock of Andrew's hair. My youngest son!" Her voice took on an almost sobbing quality at the thought of losing this last memento of her son, but there were still no tears in her eyes. If Andrew's supposed "queen" were gone, surely he would return to her and she would not need it, or could at least replace it.

"Your _favorite_ son, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin grinned at her, silently daring her to contradict him.

"Yes," Garnet whispered.

"And you would give that up in exchange for an assassin's services?" Rumpelstiltskin had uses for that lock of hair, but he enjoyed forcing people to face up to what they wanted. He enjoyed pushing their buttons.

"I would," the exiled woman said, still whispering.

"Well, 'tis done then," Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed, gleefully snatching the locket out of her hand. This would serve him nicely. Regina had no reason to care what became of the kingdoms on this side of the Wolfswood, but Rumpelstiltskin needed for them to be included in the casting of the Curse, else all his fine plans could come to naught. It all depended on Regina's whim at the moment she cast the Dark Curse, but Rumpelstiltskin wasn't willing to rely on her whims. This was the final ingredient he would need to be absolutely certain that these three tiny, little-known kingdoms were Cursed as well.

Before Garnet could bring herself to speak, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Expect a visitor in few days, dearie. He's rather good at what he does, and he would only turn aside for _love,_ which he lost long ago." Then he left, still eyeing the locket greedily.

* * *

><p>Paige couldn't stand it any longer, she had to leave. She couldn't sit in her house like this, waiting, listening for Mike to come home. Wondering what he might be doing. Fearing that he would bring Mark home to spend the night with him. And what if Mark did spend the night? She knew she would never be able to sleep, wondering what might be going on over there. Fearing the worst.<p>

So she wrote a note and stuck it on Mike's front door.

Mike,

Feeling worse, didn't want to interrupt your evening. Went to Mr. Gold's. Don't worry, he'll take good care of me. See you tomorrow.

Paige

It was much more stunted than any note she would usually leave, but she had done that at least partly on purpose. If her note was short and lacked proper sentence structure, Mike was more likely to believe that she might actually be sick. She had added the part about Mr. Gold taking care of her as an intentional jibe, since she knew Mike couldn't stand the thought of the things that she did with Mr. Gold. She knew that it would make Mike uncomfortable, and even though a part of her knew it was childish, she almost wished she could see his reaction.

* * *

><p>Paige rang Mr. Gold's doorbell, fighting tears. It reminded her of that night when she had fought with Mike, the night of the storm. The night of the bathtub. She swallowed, trying not to remember how that was the first time she had truly admitted that she did enjoy having sex with Mr. Gold.<p>

After a long moment, her guardian opened the door, looking surprised to see her. She hadn't texted him to let him know she was coming over.

"Paige," Gold said, "to what do I owe this unexpected visit?" He could tell she was upset, and wondered if she was fighting with young Michael again. He wondered if Paige had stopped by earlier, while he had been at the sheriff's office only to discover that Mary Margaret seemed to have…escaped. But she made no mention of his absence, so he assumed she hadn't even known he wasn't here.

**Mike… Mike went out, and I don't know when he'll be back.** Paige entered Gold's house at his beckoning gesture, but she was starting to wonder if she should have just stayed home instead.

"Doesn't he have work in the morning?" Gold asked, taking Paige's coat. When Paige nodded, he continued, "That's not like him. Is something wrong?"

**Not exactly,** Paige signed. **At least, not from Mike's point of view.**

Gold was intrigued; what could _that _possibly mean? Whatever it was, it was certainly upsetting Paige. "Is he becoming involved with – someone else?" He was fairly certain that he was correct, but Paige's pain and confusion seemed somehow deeper than if Michael were simply out with another girl. But perhaps that girl was Ruby, and Paige was feeling betrayed by her friend.

**I don't know if they're involved, exactly. I hope they're not. I just didn't want to sit at home, waiting, wondering if Mike would be bringing him home. **Paige's face paled; she hadn't meant to let that slip, especially not to Mr. Gold.

Gold's eyebrows lifted; so _that's_ what had Paige so upset! Mike was interested in another man, not another woman! Smirking, he wondered if Mike's confusion about his sexual orientation had something to do with the fact that a lock of the young man's hair was one of the things that Rumpelstiltskin had used to ensure that the three small kingdoms were included in the Curse. That would be an interesting side effect, to be sure. But it could simply have been the Dark Curse taking away Eliza and Andrew's happy ending. Perhaps, if he had the time and the inclination, he would look into that later, to see if he could find out for sure.

But for now, he had Paige to deal with. He had meant it when he told Michael that he had no desire to be the one to pick up the pieces of Paige's broken heart, but there was no point in sending her home after the thought he had just had. There was something he had been wanting to try with Paige, and this could well be his chance to persuade her.

When Mr. Gold gave Paige an appraising look, she signed, **Please, we can do whatever you're thinking in the morning; right now, just hold me?**

"As you wish, dove," Gold said, smirking. He put his arms around Paige and let her cry against his shoulder. As always, there was little actual sound other than her ragged breathing.

* * *

><p>When they were getting ready for bed, Gold had a surprise for Paige. He took her into the guest room, where she had slept when she lived with him. Opening an ornate armoire, he said, "After the, ah, last time you unexpectedly spent the night, I acquired some clothing for you."<p>

He showed her the pants and shirts hanging in the upper part. There were two tank tops, a regular tee shirt, a long sleeve tee, and a three-quarter-sleeved dress shirt, along with one pair of jeans, a pair of dress slacks, and two pairs of stretchy pants, one of which would be a bit large on Paige right now, to accommodate any upcoming weight gain.

In the drawers below Paige found six matching bra-and-panty sets, but half of the bras were her regular size and the other half were larger. There were three pairs of socks and one pair of thigh-high hose with a black garter belt to hold them up. Paige assumed that was meant to go under the work clothes, but she'd never actually worn a garter belt before. There was also a pair of pajamas with a short-sleeved, button-down top over pants, and a silky nightie that, while it would provide full coverage of everything, still seemed somehow slinky and overly sexy for Paige's peace of mind.

Gold had even thought to buy a pair of sneakers, a pair of black flats and a pair of slippers. "This way, if there's ever an emergency, we'll be prepared, unlike last time."

He seemed to expect some reaction from Paige, so she thanked him distractedly. She was grateful for his thoughtfulness, but right now, when she was feeling so freaked out about Mike, she couldn't focus on this. **I'm sorry,** she felt compelled to add. **I really do appreciate this, I'm just not… all here. Mentally.** She wondered why she had felt the need to explain herself, but that worry wasn't her top priority right now.

Hiding his smirk, Gold answered, "That's quite alright, dove. Now, as you can see, I've been using your old bed for storage lately, so whenever you're ready, I'll be in my room." He left, grinning wickedly as soon as he had turned away from her.

Paige glanced at the piles of junk on the narrow twin bed she'd once slept in. There were certain marks that bore only a slight coating of dust, marks that looked suspiciously like handprints. She suspected that Gold had moved this stuff onto her bed recently, maybe even after the night she had been forced into his bed by the fight and the storm.

But when Paige's thoughts wandered and she began remembering the morning after, and what she had done to Gold's back, she blushed. She had enjoyed that, and if that was what her guardian was planning for the morning, she wouldn't put up even a token resistance. Although, after the way she had taken control on her couch just recently, she wasn't sure if it even made sense to try to fight her lust anymore.

* * *

><p>Mike came home well past midnight. He hadn't meant to stay out so late, and he knew getting up for work in the morning was not going to be pleasant. Also, he was feeling a little guilty for having left Paige alone for so long, especially since it had been such a disappointing evening. Mark had insisted that they go out to the club, and then spent the entire night grinding with any girl that would dance with him.<p>

There had been a few girls that Mark had wanted to approach, but who were there with a friend. In those cases, Mark had begged that Mike come along and be his "wing-man," dancing with the girl Mark was not interested in so that the other girl wouldn't feel bad about leaving her friend alone.

Mark had even commented that he wished Ruby were there, saying that she was hot and he'd like to dance with her. Mike's slightly bitter response had been that Ruby usually came only with Paige, and that they came on poker night since Paige would have been left alone otherwise.

Finding Paige's note made Mike's night even worse. He couldn't help but wonder what they were doing over there. He was sure Gold would "take good care" of Paige. Just the thought disgusted him. But when he re-read the note, he realized that Paige hadn't even used complete sentences for the most part. Maybe she really was sick. He wondered if it had anything to do with her pregnancy, which only made him feel guilty all over again. He still felt like he couldn't commit to being the baby's father, and he knew that Paige was very upset about it.

* * *

><p>Brock took a few deep breaths, centering himself. It had been almost 29 years since that infant witch had forced Miranda to separate herself from Brock. Of course, the witch would no longer be an infant, and may still have a hold on Miranda, but with Rumpelstiltskin standing before him, Brock didn't care. He could take care of the witch when the time came, if necessary.<p>

"I will direct you to the woman's cottage and she shall give you the details of the task. I must warn you, though, she wants someone killed," Rumpelstiltskin said, a gleam in his eye.

"As I said, I will do anything." The years had not been kind to Brock. He had once been handsome in a brawny, outdoorsy way, but now age and the constant mingling of hope, worry, and fear had aged him beyond his years. But he was still strong, and had kept practicing his combat skills all these years in case he had to save Miranda from that foul creature that she had been forced to carry.

"Now, at some point during your little – "quest," you will come across someone who will offer to take you to Miranda. And _if_ this person should come forward too soon, and your task is incomplete, you may abandon it if you choose. However, should you elect to abandon your mission, you must, of course, still make some form of payment. _If_ that individual arrives too soon, and _if _you choose to go immediately, you must tell that individual the name of the woman who has set you this task." Rumpelstiltskin smiled, and it was not a nice smile at all.

"That is all?" Brock swallowed; this sounded almost too easy. He didn't want to kill an innocent, and he very much suspected that his victim would, indeed, be an innocent, so if the person came too soon, he would gladly abandon this task.

"That is all," Rumpelstiltskin replied smugly.

"Why?" A part of Brock wanted to just drop the subject lest his prying made the imp change his mind, but the former witch-hunter's sense of honor was not yet so broken that he could ignore his instinct. There was a voice in the back of his head that wondered why Rumpelstiltskin wanted a specific person to know who had hired him. Surely the foul creature had some evil purpose in mind.

"That would be my business," the imp answered cheekily. "All you have to do is agree to the terms and you can be on your merry way to finding your long-lost Miranda." Before Brock could answer, Rumpelstiltskin went on as though he had only just thought of something. "Oh, and, ah, by the way, I'm afraid your precious Miranda has gone blind since you last saw her. She will not recognize you unless you speak her name."

Brock felt his stomach tighten. She had gone blind? It was probably the fault of that hideous witch she had given birth to! He could no longer hear the voice that represented his damaged honor. "I agree!" he cried.

* * *

><p>Almost three months later, Brock found himself climbing back through the window of the room he was renting in a cheap inn. He had gone the opposite direction first, then taken a moment to bind up his arm so that the blood trail would not only end abruptly, but would take his pursuers in the wrong direction. Then he had taken a long, winding walk to head back in the proper direction.<p>

He had never expected the girl to know how to use a sword. He would have to be much more careful if he was to succeed, although he was more concerned about simply holding on until this stranger arrived to take him to Miranda. He had seen in the girl's face that she was a good person. If he had to, he would kill her, but it would grieve him.

As a Brother of the Hunt, he had been trained to memorize every detail of a hunt, or of a fight, so he could analyze it later and figure out what went wrong, or right, or what he could have done better. And so that he could tell the story to his Brothers, so that they, too, could analyze and learn from it. That habit was so ingrained that, now that he had returned to a safe place, he found himself doing it even after all these years.

_He had spent weeks learning the ins and outs of the palace, the people who lived and worked there, the ebb and flow of their usual passing. He had scouted the Princess' chambers from every possible direction, planning multiple potential escape routes. He had even found places where, at night, he could find a way to see into the lit room, noting the layout of the room itself as well as possible._

_When he had finally picked his day and time, he made sure everything was prepared. He had snuck into the Princess' bedroom while she and her father were hearing petitions from the common folk, since he had observed that the maids and ladies-in-waiting usually retired to their liege-lady's sitting room to embroider and sew, a thing which they never seemed to do in Eliza's presence. But it left the bedchamber empty._

_He knew that the room usually remained empty then until late in the evening, when two maids would come in to light the candles and remove the potpourri that they had strewn between the sheets before they had either changed or straightened the bed linens that morning. They would also light a fire and, if the weather were cold, prepare a warming-pan to put at the Princess' feet._

_Once all that was done, they would meet Eliza in her dressing room and help her ladies-in-waiting remove her gown, brush out her hair, and prepare her for bed. Brock knew their routine well, and he spent the majority of the day resting on the floor, sleeping the light sleep of any huntsman worth his salt. He could be fully awake at a moment's notice, at the slightest change of sound or light, and up into the chimney before anyone could open the door and enter the room._

_And the chimney was where he did hide when the maids came in. Even though they lit a fire, he knew that it was always the last thing they did before leaving to help the Princess change. Once they were gone, he climbed carefully out of the chimney, having held his breath from the moment the fire was lit. When he had first arrived, he had checked, but these royals kept their chimneys well-swept, and there was little soot to worry about._

_While awaiting his target, Brock had slid under the bed. He hadn't dared hide there while the maids were airing the bedding; what if one of them had dropped her corner and bent down to pick it back up?_

_As usual, the Princess bid her attendants good night at the door before closing it. She went immediately to the bed, blowing out the candle. Even while she did so, Brock slipped out from under the bed and stood, without making any sound that would be heard over the crackling fire._

_He stood there with his sword raised, and saw in the flickering firelight that Eliza had not lain down, as expected. Instead, she was kneeling by the bed, her face buried in her arms and that long red hair spread out around her like a cape. Her sobs were nearly as silent as his own movements had been. For a moment, Brock wondered why this girl was so sad, but he had a job to do. The bed was wide, but he didn't dare try to move around it lest he warn her. It would be better, he thought to himself, if she didn't even realize her doom was so near._

_Shifting his sword, he leaped into the air, intending to strike her even as he landed on the bed. But somehow things went wrong. Perhaps she had heard him shift his grip, or push off from the ground as he leaped. He had underestimated her, assuming that she would never hear him over the crackling fireplace and her own soft sobs._

_When he landed, his sword thrust into the mattress. As he pulled it back out, he was already scanning the room for her, ignoring the feathers flying all around. He heard the slightest sound. She was almost behind him, in front of the fireplace, and had just grabbed a sheathed sword that had been propped up in the corner by the fireplace. Brock assumed it belonged to her betrothed and had, perhaps, been left after the man had visited, although in all his watching, Brock had never seen any hint of such interludes._

_Eliza held the sword in her right hand and used her left to pull the scabbard off and toss it aside in a rather showy motion, but Brock knew that anyone could do that. The silly girl had rushed straight at him, raising the sword as if she knew how to use it. When Brock lazily lifted his own sword to block her strike, she danced aside, fast as a viper. He had underestimated her yet again, and from her new point of attack, she sliced his left forearm open before he could change his original block._

_Brock hissed; that was deep! He had come up onto his knees on the bed when she rushed him, so now he rolled off the bed and onto the floor. She was pressing her advantage, and doing it very well; it was all he could do to defend himself. Counter-attacks weren't even possible. Brock backed away, heading for the window he had chosen as his best escape should the alarm be sounded. Neither he nor Eliza had uttered a word, but surely her ladies, in their room right next to hers, could hear the clashing of their blades._

_When he was close enough, Brock flung himself out the window, barely managing to catch hold of the edge to change his trajectory. But he did land on the wall of the inner keep, like he had intended, and fortunately, the patrolling soldiers were not nearby._

_He ran to the nearest tower in the wall, where he had loosed a stone a week ago in preparation. Inside the hollow space, he had hidden a rope to let himself down to the outer base of this tower, which was right next to the stables. Whether for convenience or necessity, there was a small gate in the outer wall nearby to let the grooms take the horses out for their exercise. It was always kept locked, but at night only a single guard was kept on it._

_The cry had only just started to sound; from the shadows, Brock shouted in a rough voice to that guard, "Hurry, man, the Princess is in danger!" The man fell for it and ran for the inner keep, leaving the door entirely unguarded. This was why Brock had picked a night when a young guard, new to his duties, would be here. Brock unlocked the door and slipped out into the night._

Brock chuckled wryly to himself. He was glad he would never have to tell this one to his Brothers; they would have laughed uproariously to hear that the so-called "great" Fire Sword had been bested by a young, pampered princess in her thin nightshift, with her absurdly long hair flying as she struck.

But now that he had seen her fight, he would stand a better chance against her, although he had begun to suspect that she might be a better swordsman than he. Or would that be swordswoman?

* * *

><p>Paige woke, startled at first to find Mr. Gold sprawled next to her, one arm flung across her body. She didn't know what time it was, but it still felt like night-time. Sliding out from under Gold, she groped for her cell phone on the nightstand, opening it up so she could use its light to see her way to the bathroom. In doing so, she found that it was just after 3am.<p>

When she came back to the bed, Gold had shifted and was lying more on his back. Trying not to wake him, Paige slid back under the covers, lying on her side next to Mr. Gold. She rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling between his arm and his body, and curled her uppermost arm across his chest.

As comfortable as the position turned out to be, Paige felt sad, wishing she were cuddling up to Mike like this.

* * *

><p>When Gold woke a few hours later to find Paige nestled against him like that, he smirked to himself. He could feel her breasts pressed against his side, and he also felt her belly. He wasn't sure if it was due to her recent exercise habits or if it was simply the burgeoning life inside of her, but her belly didn't seem as soft. It didn't seem any smaller or larger than it had been before, just a bit firmer. Perhaps the exercise and the pregnancy combined were responsible.<p>

He wondered again what the gender of this baby would be, but according to Paige's doctor, it was too soon to tell. That first sonogram had been apparently been routine in cases like Paige's. It wasn't that her pregnancy was considered high risk, but given her seeming disability, her doctor had wanted to do an early sonogram to make sure that the baby was developing properly.

Paige's arm was stretched across his stomach, just above his hips. He trailed his fingers up her arm until his fingertips were barely brushing the tender skin along the back of her arm. The most sensitive spots were just above her elbow and right next to her armpit, although all the flesh between those two spots was also rather sensitive. He stroked his fingers from one spot to the other, barely touching her skin. She stirred and started to wake.

"Waken up, dove," he murmured softly. As soon she was mostly awake, he brushed his fingers all the way down her arm, placing his hand over hers just above his hip. He slid her hand down along his lower stomach until he could curl her fingers around him. Paige took a trembling breath when she felt that he was already getting hard.

Gold took his hand away, and for a long moment, Paige just let her hand remain as he had placed it. Then she began to move her hand, fondling him through his clothing. When he moaned her name softly, she pulled her hand away.

At first, Gold wasn't sure what she was doing, but when she sat up, she didn't try to get away. Instead, she pushed his pajama top out of the way so she could place her palms on the sides of his stomach, with her fingers pointing toward his hips. She slid her hands down over his hips and along the tops of his thighs, letting the waistbands of both his pajama pants and his boxers catch on her wrists. Realizing very quickly what she was about, Gold lifted his hips at just the right time, so that Paige had his pants down to his knees in one smooth motion. After that, though, she had to adjust her position so that she could get them all the way off.

While she was doing that, Gold unbuttoned his pajama top and, half-way sitting up, shrugged out of it, so when Paige turned back around, he was naked. She licked her lips nervously, unable to keep her eyes from lingering on a certain body part. Shifting so that she could kneel next to his upper thigh, she turned her eyes to his as she lowered her face. But before her face got low enough for her to do anything, Gold gasped slightly. Looking down, Paige saw that her hair, which hung only halfway down her back in this world, had brushed against him.

She smiled, and it was a darkly seductive smile, the first he'd ever seen on Paige's face. She moved her head around, brushing her hair against him over and over. Watching him, she pulled her hair away as soon as she saw that it was no longer having the desired effect. Only then did she continue lowering her head.

When she was close enough, she opened her mouth and breathed a long, warm breath against him without touching him. He moaned softly, so Paige gave one lick from the base to the tip, and pursed her lips to blow a more controlled stream of air, starting at the base as she had with the lick. As that air played across the wet line her tongue had left, Gold moaned louder than before. Paige smiled that dark smile again.

She realized that he had been right before, when he told her that she enjoyed going down on him. At the time, she had been too embarrassed to admit it, telling herself that it was just pure biology that had made her body react. But she really did enjoy working him with her mouth. After thinking about it, she realized that she not only liked the sensation of him in her mouth, but she especially liked that she could make him feel as good as he made her feel.

After playing her tongue across that sensitive spot just behind the tip, she began to take him into her mouth. She worked her way down, going a little further each time until she could cover all of him. She held that for as long as she could, and when she came up for air, she was startled when Mr. Gold cupped her face in one hand.

He had to try twice before he could speak. "Paige," he said, then paused, still breathing like he'd been running. "Have you ever heard of a position called sixty-nine, dove?" His eyes held a darkness that both excited and repelled her. She blushed and nodded, but pulled away from his hand.

"What's the matter, Paige?" Gold asked. She had put her chin nearly on her chest, which let her hair fall across her face like a curtain, closing her off.

She hesitated for a few moments before signing, **Do you think I'm a slut?**

Mr. Gold propped himself up on his elbows. "Whyever would you ask a thing like that, dove?"

Paige tossed her hair out of her face to look at Gold. **Before Mike…ran off, after our fight, he said – he said I was a worthless slut.** Tears had formed in her eyes.

"Personally, I don't think even young Michael believes that. Anger can make you say hurtful things you don't even mean, even to those you love most." Gold's voice was serious and contemplative. "But why would you think that of yourself?"

**Because… because what you just asked – it excites me. The thought of trying it, of going down on you while you go down on me, makes me quiver. I don't even love you, I shouldn't be excited by that thought! I shouldn't even like doing any of this with you! Unless… unless I really am a slut!**

Gold raised an eyebrow. He hadn't realized that this had been part of Paige's reluctance all along, but it made sense. She was afraid that giving in to her lust would mean that she wasn't the good girl she thought she was. "How many men have slept with?" Paige, startled, didn't answer, and Gold continued to cut right to it. "How many men have you performed oral sex on? How many men have you allowed to touch you in sexual ways?" Paige swallowed, but still didn't answer. "How many, Paige?" Gold sounded almost angry.

**Just you.**

"So just one. And how many men, aside from me, have you ever _wanted_ to have sexual contact with?"

**Mike – I mean, just one other. **Paige had turned her face down again, but not as much as before. She wouldn't meet Mr. Gold's eyes.

"Look at me, Paige. And answer me one final question: what would you do if your young man came to his senses and wanted to start a relationship with you? What would you do about your lust for me?"

**I – I don't know. **Paige was blushing; she wasn't sure where this was going.

Gold tried a slightly different angle. "Would you want to continue having sex with me while starting a serious relationship with Michael?"

**No!** Paige did meet Gold's eyes now; she looked startled that he would even ask such a thing.

"Then, no, Paige, you are _not_ a slut. If you were truly as promiscuous as you seem to fear, you wouldn't be so shocked by my question." Mr. Gold sounded somewhat amused now, and Paige got the feeling that he was making fun of her, at least a little bit. "Now," Gold continued, sliding down and moving the pillows so that Paige would have some leg room. "Do you want try this or not?" He licked his lips suggestively.

Paige swallowed hard, but then a hint of that dark seductiveness appeared on her face again. Once she had gotten into position, Paige still felt dirty and a little bit slutty, but she tried to focus on what she was supposed to be doing. That was a lot harder than normal, with Gold's tongue distracting her. She couldn't decide if she was enjoying herself immensely or if she was going crazy from the effort of trying to please Gold while he was distracting her with his talented tongue.

But as they both drew closer to orgasm, Paige decided that, if this was madness, then sanity was highly over-rated.

* * *

><p>Andrew had insisted upon being taken to the end of the blood trail. Once there, he was frustrated to find that it ended at the edge of stream that ran near the large town that sprouted unevenly around the royal castle. Once the man had gotten into the water, he could have gone anywhere!<p>

The stream, as Andrew understood it, wound its way across the kingdom, roughly parallel to the river. It eventually fed into the Swamp of No Return, which he had heard of, but had not yet gotten the chance to go down and see it. Someday he would, but for now, there was too much to do here at the castle.

He wanted to protect Eliza from this threat. She had told him the story of that witch from the Swamp, and he was eternally grateful to the Huntsman for stopping Eliza from charging in and being turned into a swan like her brothers, or perhaps suffering a worse fate. He still wasn't sure how or why the Huntsman had been there, but the only thing that mattered to Andrew was that Eliza was alive and well.

"M'lord!" The captain in charge of the investigation saluted him stiffly. He still was not entirely accustomed to answering to this newcomer, but mostly, he felt shamed that he had been unable to find the would-be assassin.

"Report, Captain," Andrew said, carefully keeping his frustration out of his voice. There was no need to make the poor man feel even worse.

"My men have spent the night searching upstream and down, both sides, Prince Andrew! No sign of the continued blood trail, and no sign of the treacherous dog's footprints."

"Aha!" That wretched voice interrupted Andrew's concentration. He knew that voice.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Andrew cried. The captain and his men stirred uneasily.

"Why, little princeling, you don't seem happy to see me," the impish man mocked.

"Why have you sought me out? I have no deal to make with you." Andrew sent the captain and his men away with a gesture, but they only withdrew out of hearing distance, and the captain had to tell a few of the men to put up their swords until they were told to draw them.

"Indeed not?" Rumpelstiltskin giggled. "Then do you _want_ that oaf to keep trying to kill your little red-headed strumpet?"

Putting a hand to his hilt and baring an inch of the sword's steel, Andrew's face was angry, almost feral. "You will not malign Eliza so, you foul creature!"

Chuckling, Rumpelstiltskin casually replied, "Ooh, so quick to temper, tsk tsk! And here I've come all this way to help you save her. But if you dunnae want to keep her alive, I'll be on my way, then!"

"No, wait," Andrew said, easing his hand off his sword and trying to swallow his anger. The imp's words had reminded him of his mother's prejudice toward the woman he loved, and he had acted rashly. "I – I apologize if I have offended you." It was hard for him to say, but if the foul little man was offering help, Andrew could at least listen.

"Oh, no offense taken, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said, his tone making it sound more like he was teasing Andrew than reassuring him. "I only came to help, is all."

"And what would you want for this help? I have nothing to trade this time," Andrew said warily.

"As to that," Rumpelstiltskin mused, "I'll tell you how to stop the man, and all you have to do is _not_ imprison him or kill him outright." The impish little man giggled at Andrew's darkly angry face. "Nay, dearie, simply give him a fatal wound and bring him back to this very spot, but still alive; that part is very important. There will be a small boat waiting here; simply place him into it and push it out into the current. That is the price, princeling; is that so much to ask?"

"You know full well 'tis not, which makes me wonder what foul purpose of yours I might be helping along," said Andrew.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked, saying, "I have certain…obligations to keep, dearie. And you can help me with that!" He giggled wickedly.

"And that is your price for telling me how to stop him?" Andrew's voice was rough and unsteady. He had feared for Eliza's life ever since he had fallen in love with her; Rumpelstiltskin's warning about preventing anyone from being murdered was never far from his mind.

"Yes," the foul imp said, his grin sickening Andrew.

"Then I agree." Andrew's voice was steadier now; he would do just about anything for Eliza.

Rumpelstiltskin's grin widened. "Lay him a trap, and when he arrives, tell him you can take him to – Miranda." He gave a high-pitched giggle that gave Andrew a grave sense that he had agreed to something awful.

* * *

><p>Brock felt his life slipping away. He should have known it would be a trap, but he had waited another month before his next attack, hoping that the person Rumpelstiltskin had spoken of would appear before then.<p>

How ironic that the man had been present at the trap the clever Princess and her people had laid. And how ironic that that same man had killed him. True, he wasn't dead yet, but Brock had suffered many a wound in his time; he knew that this one would be his last.

The man who claimed he could take Brock to Miranda had carried him somewhere and placed him in what felt like a small boat. But why? "Just… kill… me," Brock whispered.

"I cannot," answered Andrew. He knew he should, but what would happen to Eliza if he broke his word? "I made a deal that prevents it."

"Wh – why?" Brock asked.

"To save the woman I love," Andrew said simply.

Brock could understand that. He knew this would be a lingering, probably painful death. He would rather die quickly if he was never to see Miranda again. In that first moment after he realized that this wound would end him, he had felt betrayed. Everyone said that Rumpelstiltskin kept his word. But Brock had thought back to his encounters with the imp, and had finally realized that the foul creature had never actually said that Brock _would_ find Miranda again. Only that he would help Brock in his search for her.

That reminded Brock – as soon as this man had said he could take Brock to Miranda, Brock had stopped fighting. That was why he had been so badly wounded. And since he had chosen this… "The woman… who hired… me … is … Garnet," Brock whispered, despite the effort. He, like this man who had killed him, had to keep his end of the bargain. "Formerly… queen… of the… Wolfsbane… Kingdom…"

As the boat floated away, Brock saw his killer's eyes widen in shock and what looked like betrayal. He had known Rumpelstiltskin had some malicious intent in requiring him to reveal that information.

* * *

><p>Brock had slipped in and out of consciousness as he floated along. So when he saw Miranda's aged, blind face before him, he thought for a moment that he was hallucinating. But no, she was there! Even though the passing years had been unkind to her, just seeing her again was a balm for Brock's soul.<p>

She was muttering to herself and groping for his pockets. He tried to speak, and the sudden croaking sound seemed to startle her. "Mir… Mir… an," he said, but his voice failed, and the last syllable of her name became his rattling death-sigh.

* * *

><p>Paige must have dozed off, because she woke to find Gold already dressed, and sunlight streaming into the window.<p>

"Morning, dove," he smirked. Taking his keys from the top of his dresser, he removed one and handed it to her. She took it, confused. "Miss Blanchard's arraignment is this morning," Gold explained, "and I may not be at the shop in time to let you in. Just mind that you lock yourself in and don't open the door to anyone until I get there. Alright, dove?"

Paige nodded, wondering why a knowing smile kept tugging at the corners of Mr. Gold's mouth.

* * *

><p>This chapter takes place during the episode "Hat Trick."<p>

Before taking Miranda's eyes, Rumpelstiltskin promises that the Swamp of No Return will be safe and Brock will not find her there – unless she or her daughter does something to draw attention. Which, of course, Lilura did by tricking King Owen and then turning his sons into swans. This is why Brock is able to find Miranda in the Swamp at the end; Rumpelstiltskin has not broken his word.

Please review!


	17. S1 Ch17 - This Isn't What We Meant

Well, so much for the chapters coming out faster, huh? It's been a busy summer - I had hoped to have this up before I went to Otakon, but sadly, that didn't happen...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and as always, I do not own the show or ABC's characters, only the ones I have created...

* * *

><p>"Well, well, well," Rumpelstiltskin said smugly. "If it isn't Damian's nephew."<p>

Felix swallowed. Even though his uncle had warned him who he would be dealing with, there was no way to prepare for this. Something about this imp twisted Felix's stomach. If only Damian hadn't died last year; Felix was sure his uncle would have been willing to help him make the deal with Rumpelstiltskin.

"Have you summoned me only to stare at, dearie?" the imp asked mockingly.

"No! I –" Felix stopped and swallowed. "I want to take my rightful place as king of this land."

"Why now," Rumpelstiltskin asked, "why wait so long? You've known for some time, haven't you?"

In fact, it had been six years since he had met his supposedly-crazy uncle. But shortly after having met Uncle Damian, Felix had also met Dorcas. He had seen her around town before that, but it wasn't until he was old enough to attend secondary school that they actually met. There were two primary schools in the village, but many of the students were the children of farmers, so once their basic education was completed, they no longer attended school, so only one secondary school was needed. Felix's parents were business owners; their general store was profitable enough. They were never what anyone would call rich or well-to-do, but they could afford somewhat nicer things than many.

Dorcas' parents had started as farmers, but had done very well at it. They had moved into town, renting out their farm until such time as Dorcas married and would need a home for herself and her husband. Courting Dorcas had taken up much of Felix's attention, and somehow even the idea of becoming a king seemed less important than spending every waking moment with her. She was actually five years older than him, so his first year in secondary school had been her last, but that one year had been more than enough for them to begin falling in love. And she told him she would wait for him. Even though he couldn't marry her until he had finished school at the age of 18, even though Dorcas would be an old maid of 23 by then, she had made an oath to wait.

But last year, just months after Felix had finally married Dorcas, disease had swept the village. Both his father and his uncle had died, while the farm Felix and Dorcas had been given by Dorcas' parents, almost four miles outside of town, had remained untouched. If he hadn't been a newly-wed, Felix's new home would not have been so well-stocked, but in this area, any wedding-guest not part of the couple's immediate family brought food to the couple's new home.

If only Uncle Damian had not needed to go into town for supplies, he might never have caught the sickness, either, but Felix's parents, and Dorcas', lived in town. Her parents had both died, and while Felix's mother was one of the few that had recovered, Felix thought she was now dying of a broken heart. He hadn't realized just how in love his parents still were until his father died. His mother would be lucky if she lived to see the birth of her first grandchild in a few months.

"I –" Felix said, then stopped. He owed the wretched little man no explanation. "Now is the time that I chose. 'Why' is my own business."

Rumpelstiltskin just grinned wickedly.

"What is the price for proof of my lineage?" Felix wanted this over with as quickly as possible.

"Oh, we'll get to that," Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "First, a warning, dearie – there is a banshee associated with the royal family, and I cannae bring the proof to light without leading her straight to you."

Felix felt his face go pale. He wasn't so sure he wanted to put his family under the eye of a banshee.

Reading his hesitation, Rumpelstiltskin giggled. "But, of course," he added, "the banshee's attention will only be further proof of your lineage, since any well-educated person knows that only the families whose origins were pure could claim such a privilege."

Knowing that this was an intentional insult to his pauper's education, Felix merely swallowed his anger. If banshees were a sign of a family's pure origins, then perhaps banshees were not the horror he had always heard. If this worked, he would have to find someone who could tell him more about these supposed harbingers of death. It made him wonder how many of the other superstitions he'd been raised on were wrong.

"I do not fear the banshee," Felix said, proud that he had kept the quaver out of his voice.

But Rumpelstiltskin knew it for a lie and grinned maliciously. "Well, then," he said, "do you want this proof?"

"I do," Felix replied. "But what of the price? I am a poor farmer, and have but little to offer."

"Ah, but you'll have plenty to offer soon enough!" Rumpelstiltskin eyed Felix shrewdly. "All you have to do," he said, flourishing a long scroll of paper that seemed to simply appear in his hand, "is sign this contract."

Felix didn't like the idea of signing the contract without knowing what the price would be, but after that disease last year, there weren't as many people in the village to buy his crops, which hadn't come in particularly well, anyway. He could not afford to feed and clothe himself and his wife, let alone the babe that was on the way. In order to get the seed for his recent crop, he had taken out a lien against the four horses he used to plow his fields. That lien would come due right around the same time that he would find himself with an extra mouth to feed.

Swallowing, Felix held out his hand, taking the contract. He propped the parchment against the uppermost slat of the fence. He held the quill in his hand and stared at the contract for a long moment, not reading it, not even seeming to really see it, but wishing he had some other recourse. But Felix signed the contract, and Rumpelstiltskin sauntered away, giggling to himself.

* * *

><p>"Look, I know you're still mad at me, and I'm sorry I hurt you. But please, you've got to call me back when you get this. It's… it's my mother." Mark's voice was tearful as he left another message for his fiancée, who still hadn't spoken to him since their argument. It had been nearly two weeks now, but that wasn't why Mark was so desperate to make up this fight.<p>

"She's still not answering," Mark fumed, pacing. Mike pretended not to notice the tears in his friend's eyes.

"If she still doesn't call back, maybe you should just show up at her house, or at her job," Mike suggested. "Or I could go talk to her for you."

"Thanks," Mark started, but the phone rang. "It's her," he said before answering. "Sammi?"

He listened for a moment.

"Yes, I really meant that. I never intended to hurt you like that." It was a lie, of course; Mark didn't really care that he had upset her. But he knew that he could always turn to Sammi when things got rough. "But listen –"

Sammi cut him off. Mike could almost hear what she was saying, but Mark started pacing again.

"Yes, babe. Yeah. I love you, too." As distracted as Mark was, the lie fell from his tongue easily, and he barely even noticed it. "But listen, Sam, it's my mom – she's in the hospital."

He clenched the phone tighter as she spoke again.

"Yeah, we're all here. Even Mike, he came to wait with me, since you – since we were fighting." Mark swallowed. "Mom collapsed today. She's been having a rough time for the past few months, on and off, but I think it was worse than she let on. I'm just so scared right now."

Sammi said something else.

"That would be great, if you could."

Since Mark's pacing had brought him near Mike again, Mike could hear Sammi say that she'd come right to the hospital.

"Good. I'll – I'll see you soon, then." Mark hung up and collapsed onto a chair.

"Are you alright, Mark?" asked Mike, wishing he knew how to comfort his worried friend.

"Yeah, thanks," Mark answered, not even looking at Mike.

Down the hall, Doctor Whale had come out to talk to the family, and Mark rushed over there, leaving Mike sitting all alone, feeling completely useless.

* * *

><p>Felix was not sure what to do. He had brought his wife to the doctor in town, whom he had known all his life. In spite of caring for all the stricken members of the community, the doctor hadn't even taken sick last year, which he said was because he had survived that same disease as a youth.<p>

But now, Felix was pacing the large room, which took up nearly all of the main floor of the doctor's house. Dorcas had been told she could remain with her husband until her contractions were closer together.

"Felix, sit still," she said, half amused and half sympathetic. Part of her husband's nervous energy came from his near-panic that the birth was nearly upon them, but she could tell that Felix was also painfully reminded of his mother's death, in this very room. Toward the end, his mother couldn't even rise from her bed, so the doctor had her brought here where he could help to alleviate her pain. Felix had taken his mother's loss hard, especially with his father's death so very recent.

Dorcas herself had been devastated to lose both parents at once, but this pregnancy had served as a balm for her pain. She could not wallow in grief while she felt this new, precious life growing inside of her. They had not discussed names; it was part of their superstition that a baby must not be named until it was born. Some said it brought bad luck upon the child, while others insisted that choosing names beforehand would allow a changeling to sneak in just before the babe was born and kill the child, taking the name for itself, which Dorcas thought was a load of sheep's dung, but tradition was tradition, however it had come about.

Another woman in labor sat on a chair nearby; beside her was a woman who did not seem to be related. As Dorcas understood it, this young woman and her husband had lost all of their few relatives to last year's disease, and now her husband would not return in time for the birth. Her husband, a poor farmer like Felix himself, had gone out in search of work to earn the money he needed to support his growing family.

Felix had sold his parents' business to a family that had come to the area from an overpopulated village about a week's travel away, a place where the disease had not struck. He had not gotten much for it, but it had been enough that he hadn't been forced to leave, like the other woman's husband. Dorcas was grateful for that much, although she knew there was still not enough money to pay off the lien on her husband's horses.

"Felix?" Dorcas said suddenly, "Fetch the doctor out of the back!"

* * *

><p>The doctor had his hands full, since both women had delivered at nearly the same time. Dorcas had been first, but only by a few minutes. The two women lay in bed, exhausted, but unable to see each other because of the curtain drawn between their two beds. Felix was in the process of pulling a chair over to his wife's bedside, but before he could even ask the baby's gender, a voice startled him.<p>

"Well, now, I've arrived in the nick of time, haven't I?" Rumpelstiltskin stood in the doorway.

Felix felt both hopeful and sick at the same time. He still owed this foul creature, and that was not a good feeling to have. "Where is it?"

"Oh, your proof has come to light, dearie, and there are men arriving just now to discuss it with you. If you'd care to join them outside?" The impish little man stepped further into the room and raised his arm, indicating the door.

With a glance at his wife, Felix rushed outside. Dorcas began to cry, which made the other woman reach out and tug at the curtain between them until she could see Dorcas. "What is it," the woman asked. She was alone now, as her neighbor had needed to get home to cook supper for her own family.

"My husband is a descendant of King Rolph, but only now has the proof been found," Dorcas said tearfully. "But he will still have to unite this kingdom, and I have given him a mere daughter! His task would go the easier if he had a legitimate heir to his future throne."

"Ah," the woman said. Like everyone in this accursed kingdom, she wished the fighting would end so that there could be some measure of peace in their lives. "I am Wynne," she said.

"Dorcas," answered the woman who might someday become the queen of this land.

"M'lady Dorcas," Wynne said, "I have borne a son. We are but poor farmers, my husband and I, and while a son is precious to us as well, he is perhaps not so precious as he would be to yourself."

"Please, Wynne, you need not call me that," Dorcas said. "It may all come naught despite our best intentions."

"Please hear me out, M'lady," Wynne said. "I am trying to offer you a son for your husband." Wynne swallowed hard. "I would take your daughter and raise her for my own, and none need know. I ask only that, if you do become queen, you remember what I have done for you."

Dorcas gaped for a moment. This could change everything! "But it would be imperative that no one know what we've done," Dorcas said. "Not even our husbands or the children themselves."

"That is true." Wynne had tears in her eyes. "But that is why I asked that you remember this only once you are queen, M'lady. As queen, you would be within your rights to elevate an "old friend" to one of your chambermaids."

"Or give that "old friend's" husband a title, and make that friend herself one of my ladies-in-waiting," Dorcas added. "The proper bloodline must continue, and a prince could only marry the daughter of a nobleman."

"Whatever reward you see fit, M'lady," Wynne replied, a joyful smile on her face. She knew that this was not a guarantee, but if this should come to pass, her husband's financial troubles would be over. She knew that they would not let the money go to their heads, and even made a vow to herself that she would be the voice of reason if necessary. Wynne's husband, though, was a man who she did not think could be corrupted by anything. "Is it agreed, then?"

"What shall we tell the doctor?" asked Dorcas.

"That he must have been mistaken. After all, his nurse was just married last week, so he alone had to deliver both our children at almost the same time." Wynne's voice was steady. "It would be easy for a poor, overworked doctor to make a mistake like that."

"Then 'tis agreed," Dorcas said, snuggling her baby girl to her cheek one last time. There was a moment when she wasn't sure she could hand her child over. Tears dripped onto the baby's face as Dorcas debated going back on this rash agreement.

But there was still someone else in the room. "I would nae do that if I were you," Rumpelstiltskin said, approaching the two beds. Both women jumped, their hearts in their throats.

"What business is this of yours, imp?" Dorcas asked, the tremble in her voice betraying her.

"None at all, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "I'm just offering some friendly advice!" But his face and manner were entirely too untrustworthy.

"I do not believe you," Dorcas said.

"In case you haven't heard, I dunnae usually give anything for free," Rumpelstiltskin said. "But in this case, you'll only have to pay if you _don't_ take my counsel. And believe me, dearies, it will be a far more unpleasant price than anything I would ever charge for such a paltry suggestion."

Both women eyed him suspiciously. Rumpelstiltskin never stopped smirking, knowing they would ignore his advice. They both knew that he never helped anyone unless there was something in it for him, and he knew he could use that against them. Had he not interfered, they might have been unable to go through with this switch, and he well knew that this would be the best way for him to assess the girl's character in the coming years. It would also create an excellent reason for her to make a deal with him.

With untrusting glances at him, the two women switched their babies. "Don't say I didn't warn you," Rumpelstiltskin said airily, a wicked grin on his face. "And worry you not, dearies, I'll not give away your little secret, not unless someone is willing to pay my price for the information. And whyever would anyone ask about your brats being switched?" He giggled as he left. Why, indeed.

* * *

><p>When Felix returned a few hours later, he was elated. Until he found that Dorcas had named their son without him. She explained that the doctor had come around with the birth certificate and needed a name for it, so she had given the name Robert, as that was her great-grandfather's name. It was a lie; Wynne had insisted on naming her son after her own father, and since the name might be the only thing she would be able to give her son from this point on, Dorcas hadn't had the heart to say no. She knew Felix would be angry; his family had a tradition of giving the first-born son a name that started with the letter "F," but Dorcas pretended she had forgotten that.<p>

Dorcas had named her daughter Norah, after her mother's sister who had not survived childhood, and tried to keep the matter far from her mind from then on.

* * *

><p>Four years later, when Dorcas gave birth to another daughter, she almost died. The doctor who delivered her second daughter told her that she would be unable to have more children. For the first time, Dorcas felt just a little bit glad that she had made the switch with Wynne. At least her husband thought she had already provided him with an heir. But Dorcas still wondered if things would have been different had she not traded her first daughter for a son. She told herself she had to stop thinking about it, because it was over and done with. The wondering and second-guessing were far too painful, and besides, now she had little Ember to take care of.<p>

* * *

><p>Mike had rushed off around nine in the morning to sit with Mark at the hospital. It was Paige's day off, and Mike's as well, but since he didn't know how long he would be gone, Mike had suggested that, if he wasn't home by lunchtime, Paige could take some leftovers to the shop and have lunch with Gold. He said it rather snidely, in Paige's opinion.<p>

When she received a text message saying that the doctor hadn't even come out yet, and it was nearly Mr. Gold's lunch hour, she had collected last night's leftovers from the fridge and headed over to the pawn shop. Gold had been expecting her even though she hadn't contacted him; Mike had apparently taken it upon himself to let Gold know she'd be coming.

Now, Gold's lunch hour was nearly up, and Paige, wearing only a t-shirt that didn't reach past her hips, was searching the upstairs apartment for her panties when Mr. Gold's cell phone rang.

"Hello, Michael," Gold said after pressing the appropriate button. Then he listened for a moment.

"Why, yes, actually," he said smirking at Paige, "she's right here with me. We just finished a rather… delectable meal." His tone and his expression turned that simple statement into a very obvious insinuation. Paige flushed bright red, especially when she noticed that Gold's gaze was fixed between her legs, which her shirt didn't even begin to cover. On the other end of the phone, Mike stammered a bit as he spoke again.

"Ah, yes," Gold answered. "How is she?"

There was a very long silence, punctured only by nonverbal sounds from Gold as he listened to Michael.

Finally, Gold said, "Oh, that's terrible. Please extend my condolences to the family. It'll be a shame if they can't save her."

He listened again, much more briefly this time, before replying, "Of course, I'll let her know. And if you can't be there for Paige, just let me know. I always enjoy spending the night with her." Once again, it was a clear insinuation, meant to push both of their buttons, and as usual, it worked. Paige, halfway under the table next to the couch where they had just had sex, bumped her head when she tried to turn and look at Gold accusingly. Apparently, she didn't care to hear him baiting young Michael this way. And Michael himself was stammering again as he ended the conversation, and at least part of his stammering was from anger. Gold didn't even try to suppress the smirk.

Saying goodbye to the young man and tucking his phone away, Gold was a little surprised to find Paige right beside him as he turned. There was still embarrassment on her face, but that was quickly giving way to a shocked anger.

Pulling her missing panties out of Gold's pants pocket, Paige glared at Gold. **Is that where the other pair went, too?**

Gold feigned innocence, but didn't bother to do it well. Not only did he know that Paige was empathetic enough not to fall for it, he also wanted her to know that he was pretending. "Whatever are you on about, dove?"

**I couldn't find these today, and then there was that day when Emma almost caught us, and not only did I have to go out for Chinese, but also finish the day here at work without any panties on? **Even though it wasn't technically phrased properly, Paige made it a question anyway, but Mr. Gold made no response. **Did you steal my panties that day, too? **Gold just smirked. Paige wanted to hit him. Not punch him in the face or anything, but maybe on the arm – or at least slap him, anyway. But given who he was, and how much power he had over her, she didn't quite dare. **Screw you!**

Gold's smirk deepened. "Again, dove? You might have to use that lovely mouth of yours if you're wanting _that_ again so soon."

Paige flushed a dark red, partly from anger and partly from embarrassment. **That's not what I meant, and you know it!**

Mr. Gold pushed Paige against the wall, squeezing her throat in one hand. He didn't squeeze too tightly, though, and he didn't push her as hard as he could have. "You really ought to be careful of what you say, dove," he said, in a sort of playful anger that he knew Paige would take as another form of mocking her. His other hand slid between her legs to rub forcefully at the sweet spot. "Someone just might take you at your word, rather than your supposed intentions."

He touched her more roughly than he usually did, and she was no longer wet, but she'd had enough stimulation earlier that being manhandled this way rode that line between pain and pleasure. She put one hand on the wrist holding her neck, but she just held his wrist loosely, not trying to stop him. Her other hand went to his chest, just resting there. She stared into his eyes, unable to look away. That look was a combination of lust and embarrassment, and Gold enjoyed it greatly.

As her body began to respond, she gripped the lapel of his suit jacket and squeezed his wrist, breathing heavily. "Why, you're getting wet, dove," he said, pressing his fingers into her neck a little bit harder for just a moment. Her embarrassment deepened, but so did her lust. There was a hint of begging in her eyes now, and Gold wasn't sure at first if she was begging for release or begging him to stop. But he quickly realized that she was not trying to push him away; in fact, the hand that gripped his lapel was actually pulling him ever so slightly toward her. She certainly seemed to be enjoying this.

Her hips bucked against his hand, and her legs began to go limp. He had to loosen his hold on her throat to keep from leaving any marks; with her legs giving way, it was putting more pressure on the spot where his hand gripped her neck. He moved his fingers faster, bringing her to orgasm before her legs gave out completely. She slid down the wall, still riding the sensations.

Gold looked at his watch. "You've made me a few minutes late, dove," he said, frowning in mock anger. "Clean yourself up. And don't leave without seeing me, first," he added, wiping the wetness off his fingers with Paige's panties before dropping them onto the floor in front of her.

Paige waited to feel embarrassed that he had realized that she was thinking of slipping out the back door while he wasn't looking, but somehow it didn't happen. She wondered if she was starting to accept the situation. Or maybe after that last orgasm, she was simply too tired, and too busy still enjoying the afterglow, to care.

* * *

><p>Walking home, Paige thought about stopping at the sheriff's office to talk to Emma, and maybe to find out if Mary Margaret knew the Edwards family. Mrs. Edwards, Gold had told her, had gone into kidney failure, but had been hiding her symptoms for almost three months because she didn't realize how serious it was and hadn't wanted to go to the doctor. The woman's stubborn pride had left her in a potentially life-threatening situation.<p>

But Paige didn't really want them to ask her why she was carrying an old jewelry box. When Mr. Gold had opened it to show her what was inside, she had gaped in wonder. It didn't really surprise her that he had somehow ended up with the Blueberry Diadem in this world, but what did surprise her was that he was returning it to her. Of course, he knew that she remembered her past, despite how hard she had tried to keep that from him. She had a theory as to why she could remember, but she wasn't quite sure she wanted to bring it up with Gold. It was too embarrassing.

She almost wished she had one of her royal gowns here in this world, so she could see herself dressed as Eliza again. Paige smiled, but it was an ironic expression. She shook her head, hardly able to believe that she was actually homesick for one of those awful dresses, with yards of useless skirts dragging her down!

Hugging the lovely old jewelry box to her chest, Paige couldn't wait to get home and put the tiara on again, even though she strongly suspected that it would only end up leaving her more homesick than ever.

* * *

><p>Norah, 20 years old, strolled down the road that led out of town. She had just been to the merchant's, selling eggs and buying some supplies. Her basket was heavy with flour, a little bit of sugar, and a few other items, but she carried it as if she had no cares in the world. Indeed, she was doing well. Last year's crop had been so good that she had not needed to borrow as much money for this year's seed.<p>

She had just hired a new farmhand after Leland had married at the end of last harvest; the new young man was called Liam, and already the other farmhands had begun to tease that she had only hired him because his name sounded so similar to that of the man he was replacing. Leland had married an only child, so he would now inherit her parents' farm someday. Otherwise, he would likely have stayed to work Norah's farm. Barlow had stayed when he married; in fact, Norah, whom the men knew as Norman, had arranged for a small cottage to be built for Barlow and his wife, and had drawn up a contract wherein he would eventually own about ten acres around that cottage, provided he worked for her for the specified number of years. It had been her wedding present to him.

But this new fellow, this Liam, had never worked on a farm before he came by. At first, he had just been asking for a few nights of shelter from a bad storm that was passing through. He himself had just been passing through as well. But Norah had asked him to stay on, partly because he was a very likeable young man, and partly because he had insisted that he help out during the few days he intended to stay. He had proven that he was a good worker, not only by his willingness to help, but by how much he had learned, even in so short a time.

Of course, even now, with the farm doing so well, there were times when Norah couldn't help but feel that there was something more, something different, and perhaps more important, that she should be doing with her life. She had felt this way since she was a child, as if she were destined for great things. She had never understood why this feeling came over her sometimes, but she half-wondered if it was the whisperings of fate. But what grand purpose could she serve out here, on a farm that seemed so very far from most everything else?

As Norah rounded a curve, she saw a shape under the spreading oak tree that stood by the spot where the road leading out to her farm joined the road into town. It looked like a person, sitting huddled up against the trunk of the tree.

When she got closer, she discovered that she was right, and she had never seen this young man before. His clothes, now torn and stained, had once been even nicer than Norah's own best clothes. He jumped when Norah spoke to him.

"Excuse me, sir, are you alright?" Norah put a hand out as if to touch him, but he shied away, a hunted look on his face. Before he could decide to run, Norah put her basket down and held out her hands, palms up, to show she meant him no harm. "Whoever you are, and whatever you are running from, I offer you shelter for the night. Or longer, if you wish. The food may not be the finest in the realm, but it will be hot and filling, and now that Barlow has taken a wife, it tastes a sight better than it used to. I only ask that, if you intend to stay for any length of time, you help out at least a little bit around the farm."

At first, she thought the young man might run away in spite of her kind offer, but finally he croaked, "I've never worked on a farm." His voice sounded as if he had either been crying or hadn't used it in a few days.

"Farm work 'tis not so difficult. The only reason I ask is because I can ill afford to spend a few weeks feeding someone who is not helping out. This farm is my livelihood, and the livelihood of the men working for me." Norah had lowered her hands, but had not yet picked up her basket. There was still a chance that this young man might be the sort to attack strangers. He definitely looked like a man on the run, and one never knew what a desperate soul like him might do.

"My name is Norman," she lied. But her next words were only truth. "I swear to you that no one will learn your whereabouts from me, nor from any of my men, so long as you give us no reason to rue the moment I offered you shelter."

"I am Robert," the young man said, his face still wary, but a hint of calm in his posture now.

* * *

><p>Robert had been received with the utmost kindness. The men were all familiar with "Norman's" penchant for bringing home strays. But that was actually how almost half of them had come to work at this farm, so they never minded. They did remark, however, on how similar Robert and Norman looked. They could be brothers, the men all said, or close cousins.<p>

Norah was surprised by this; she hadn't noticed any particular resemblance. But the men all insisted, and set straight to teasing their employer that this young man was, perhaps, her long-lost twin brother. They had to be twins, according to the farmhands, because it turned out that they were exactly the same age, having even been born on the same day.

Robert had been on the farm for nearly a week before he began to lose that haunted wariness. He was finally able to laugh about his resemblance to his benefactor, and even suggested that they switch places for an hour to see if the men knew the difference. Norah, laughing, had agreed. She was surprised how long the charade went on before Robert's lack of farm experience gave him away, although the men had been looking askance at him the whole time. In fact, it was because he didn't look _quite_ right that they had tested his knowledge by asking seemingly innocent questions. In the end, though, they had decided that it was a great joke, and ribbed each other about who had been more taken in by the deception.

After two weeks, Robert and Norah were inseparable. It was not that Norah had any feelings for him, it was the fact that he was so charismatic. Also, their senses of humor were similar enough that Norah had begun to wonder if, somehow, the men had gotten it right and he was her twin brother, somehow separated at birth.

* * *

><p>Sammi knew she couldn't keep holding onto her anger. She almost wanted to, but Mark was so upset by his mother's hospitalization that she couldn't help but let it go. Even though she wasn't sure she even loved Mark, she felt like she owed it to him to support and comfort him.<p>

According to the doctor, Olivia Edwards desperately needed a kidney transplant. Because she had ignored her symptoms for so long, her kidneys were shutting down completely, and there was nothing the doctors could do. Dialysis would help for a time, but the transplant was imperative.

Sammi had asked to be tested as a possible donor. Even though it was far more likely that a member of Mark's own family would be a much better candidate, Sammi felt the need to try. She wasn't sure if that urge came from the part of her that still wanted Mark's family to approve of her despite the fact that she didn't want to marry Mark after all, or if she was just that good of a person. But how good a person could she be, leading poor Mark on like this?

She sighed. She probably shouldn't have come to work today; it was hard to focus on anything to do with advertising while her thoughts were going around in such pointless circles.

When her cell phone rang, she felt her heart jump into her throat. When she saw it was Mark, she felt even worse. What kind of news would he have? Had something terrible happened, or had they found a donor? Was Mark himself about to go into surgery to save his mother's life? But Mark simply told her that Doctor Whale had asked to speak to both of them, together.

Before Sammi could even gather her things to go speak to her boss, the boss came to her, and spoke very kindly, recommending that Sammi go home, or perhaps back to the hospital where she could be with her fiancé. Sammi was very grateful to him, and rushed to the hospital, wondering what kind of news Dr. Whale could possibly have for them.

* * *

><p>Sammi clutched Mark's hand, her heart in her throat. Was it possible that she was the donor who could save the day? But why not bring Mark's father and sister into the room as well? She really wanted to be a match, because a part of her desperately sought Olivia's approval. Sammi wondered if it was because her own parents had died so many years ago; perhaps she had latched onto Mark's parents, especially his mother, in place of her own lost family.<p>

Dr. Whale looked agitated. "I think you two should sit down," he said. They did so, but the doctor remained standing. He started pacing back and forth, trying to figure out where to begin.

Mark felt his stomach sink. "Please, Doctor, is something wrong? Or – or is one of us a match for my mother?"

"Okay, here's the thing," Dr. Whale started, but he couldn't seem to finish that thought. After pacing for another moment, he sat down across from Sammi and Mark and tried again. "You remember how I asked the two of you to submit a second blood sample?"

"Yeah," Mark said, glancing at his fiancée. "What does that mean, Doctor? Because we were both kind of hoping it meant we were both potential donors and you just needed to run more tests or something." Mark watched the doctor's face closely while he said that, and what he saw was not encouraging. "But that's not it at all, is it, Doctor Whale?"

"No," Whale replied, shaking his head. He still wasn't sure quite how to handle this. "What we collect is more than enough to run any tests we might need. I'm afraid I have some rather – unusual news for you." He took a deep breath. Maybe he should just say it…

* * *

><p>Robert had stayed at the farm for just over a month when their joint birthday came around. They celebrated together, drinking too much beer. A bonfire had been lit along the bank of the creek, and Barlow's wife had made an outdoor sort of dinner. She even brought out a cake she'd made for the celebrations; a rare treat, with the price of sugar so high this year.<p>

The other farmhands drank only a pint or two apiece, then headed for bed. A farmer's work called for early rising. Norah and Robert, celebrating 21 years of life, stayed and drank on. As he got more and more drunk, Robert began to make some confessions. He had been born into nobility, he said, and was, in fact, the heir to his family and might someday become king, if his father could gather enough support among the factions. He didn't want to be a king, he confided, because a king wasn't ever left alone to do as he wished, and a king didn't get to feel the soil or work the land. Robert said he had come to enjoy farming. "It makes me realize that I want make something grow, something truly useful," he remarked, more than once.

Norah, her own drunken mind feeling the need to honor Robert's confession with one of her own, admitted that she was a woman. Robert needed it repeated, but when he'd understood, he roared with laughter. Norah added that she sometimes felt that she would be destined for great things if she hadn't been born a poor farmer, which made Robert laugh harder. They both laughed until they cried, and drank and sang crude songs until they had both passed out right there by the creek.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Norah woke with an ache in her head and the sun far too bright in her eyes. Suddenly, she remembered Robert's confessions – and her own. Looking around, she saw Robert relieving himself into a nearby bush. When he had finished and turned around, she saw on his face that he, too, remembered the previous evening's confessions. She expected him to beg her to pretend she'd never heard his secrets, in return for his own promise to never reveal hers, but what he had to say surprised her very much.<p>

"If only we could live each other's lives," he said, somewhat wistfully. When Norah only chuckled, Robert joined in, but it was a rueful sound from both of them.

"Wouldn't that be something," Norah replied, her mind suddenly supplying her with a multitude of daydreams about being a prince. She was already pretending to be a man anyway; was it that far a step to imagine herself as a prince? It was only idle daydreaming, after all. Just as she opened her mouth to beg Robert to keep her secret, he spoke again.

"If there was a way, would you switch places with me?" His face was earnest now, but Norah started to laugh again anyway. "Norman, stop! Or, no, you said it was really Norah, didn't you? Anyway, I'm serious, Norah." He gestured around them. "Working the land has become my passion, and you said last night that you sometimes feel like you should be doing something more important than this. And what could be more important than bringing peace to this godsforsaken kingdom? It's not something I want to do, but I think you'd be good at it. Far better than me, anyway. If you teach me everything you know, I could take over the farm, and you could go find your destiny." Norah just blinked at him. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life here, in the middle of nowhere?"

Norah thought about it for a long moment. "But what about marriage? If I take your place, they'll expect me to get married and 'father' an heir."

Robert was stumped, but only for a moment. "They're not going to betroth me until they can figure out whose daughter will be most helpful in consolidating the throne. It's not like I could ever marry for love if I went back, anyway, so you can send for me when they marry you. I'll take your place in the bedchamber, and aside from getting your wife with child, you need have nothing to do with her, physically, at least. I can tell the farmhands that a relative is ill and may be dying; they'll run the farm while I'm gone, and once your wife is pregnant, I'll leave."

"And what if she bears a daughter?" Norah didn't mean to naysay everything Robert was suggesting, but she desperately wished this could work, and her practical mind kept finding things that could go wrong.

"Then I can visit again, or you could make a royal progress among your people, making sure to pass nearby." Robert paced, his own sudden realization frustrating him. "But there is just enough difference in our appearances that we would be found out!" With an aggravated sigh, he half-sat, half-fell down next to Norah.

Patting him soothingly on the shoulder, she said, "It's a nice dream, though, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>Robert continued to stay at the farm, and some of the other farmhands started to drop hints to Norah that she should offer him a salary and a permanent place at the farm. With things going so well, and with an extra hand, they would be able to clear out a stony area, near the edge of the woods, that was currently unplowable, and would have an extra field to plant next year, which would mean more money coming in. It would also mean extra money going out for the seed, but still, they remarked, it would be worth it over time.<p>

Norah always said she would think about it, but she never had the courage to actually offer Robert a permanent place here. They both sensed that he would be found eventually. They had even discussed that inevitable fact once or twice, since Robert was well aware that his father would not hesitate to turn to a magical means of locating his son if more conventional means proved fruitless.

Three weeks after their shared birthday, Robert and Norah walked along the road to the oak that marked the turn onto the road into the village. They had brought a picnic dinner, and although they hadn't discussed it, they both knew Robert would not be returning to the farm with Norah.

They lingered over dinner, and while wiping the grease from his face with a napkin, Robert made some inane joke about what the other men would say when "Norman" came back alone. Norah almost laughed, but she felt like her destiny was passing her by. She had been distracted throughout their meal, wondering if she would ever get another chance to find her fate.

"I wish I could go," she said suddenly as Robert turned to walk away. "I _want_ to, but they'll know –" She stopped as abruptly as she'd started, afraid she would burst into tears if she spoke another word. Even though Robert knew her secret, she didn't want to act so girlish in front of him.

"And I want to stay. More than anything," Robert said, without turning to face her.

"Then why don't you?" came a devious voice from beside the oak tree.

* * *

><p>Dr. Whale gave a sigh. "I really don't know how to tell you this, so I guess I'll just have to say it." He paused, but not for dramatic effect. He was sure that there was some correct way to handle this situation. He just wished he knew what it was.<p>

"Apparently, you two were switched at birth," Whale finally blurted out.

A stunned silence greeted his announcement. Dr. Whale wanted to say something else, something to soften the blow, but what? Saying, 'I'm sorry' seemed really inadequate, perhaps even a bit crass, and what else could he say? Before he came up with anything, Sammi and Mark began to react.

"H-how," Sammi whispered, but couldn't continue.

"Switched?" asked Mark, his voice only a little louder than his fiancée's. This unexpected announcement had caught him off balance. From the way the doctor had been acting, Mark had feared some grave news about their health, or perhaps about some incompatibility as far as having children was concerned.

"How could this happen?" Sammi asked, able to finish this time. She realized that Mark had gone completely useless with shock, and someone had to take a practical approach to this news.

"Well, as you already know, you were both born on the same day," Whale began. "However, neither of you was born in the hospital. I looked back through the records, and it seems that there was a bad storm the day you two were born, which severely cut the ambulance's response time. Mrs. Edwards delivered her baby at home just after the EMTs arrived, and Mrs. Clemens delivered minutes later in another ambulance while in route to the hospital." Whale paused for a moment. "According to the two reports filed by the EMTs involved, Mrs. Edwards' baby was a girl, while Mrs. Clemens had a boy."

"But there were complications in both deliveries. It seems that both ambulances arrived at almost exactly the same moment, and the infants were taken away to be tested. Mrs. Clemens had a severe tear in her perineum and was losing a good deal of blood, while Mrs. Edwards was suffering from postpartum pre-eclampsia, most likely brought on by her lupus."

Dr. Whale looked a little embarrassed at what he was about to say. "And between the storm and the confusion of two newborns and two new mothers in critical condition arriving at the same time, the hospital staff clearly made a mistake when returning the infants to their mothers. But since both mothers had been suffering complications, I presume that neither of them realized that they had been brought the wrong baby."

Sammi, pale and a bit slow with shock herself, said, "And I guess it doesn't help that we look kind of similar." At Whale's confused look, she added, "I mean, our parents wouldn't have been able to look at either of us and say, 'are you sure this is my child.' Even as we got older. A lot of people say we could be siblings."

"Well, you're certainly not that," Whale said encouragingly. "_Your_ blood work, Sammi, indicates genetic ties with the Edwards family, while Mark's matches up with our records of the Clemens'. There's no indication that the two families are related to each other, though." He had seen the sudden paleness on Sammi's face when she mentioned siblings. It was certainly none of his business whether or not Sammi and Mark had consummated their relationship, but even if they hadn't, she was right to be concerned, given their impending marriage.

"How –" Mark said, his voice rough with emotion. "How do we tell my family?" Sammi's parents had died ten years ago, when she was only sixteen, and there hadn't been any living relatives. Sammi had gotten herself legally emancipated, with a little help from Mr. Gold, so that she would not have to end up in the system. She hadn't wanted spend the next two years of her life in foster homes, sent who-knows-where. 16-year-olds weren't high on most adoptive parents' preferences. Most people wanted an infant or a child rather than an older teenager.

Feeling a bit guilty, Sammi wondered if this news could help her find a way to break things off with Mark without hurting him too badly. She had no idea that Mark was thinking the same thing, although without as much prodding from his conscience.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Sammi was also a better match for Olivia than Jade was. It was still hard to think of Jade as her sister. The girl was so fiery and argumentative. She and Sammi had butted heads often, although it was usually more that Jade would start an argument and Sammi would try to politely state her side, and when that didn't work, Sammi backed down. She didn't like fighting, and it seemed that Jade did.<p>

Sammi had noticed that Mark fought back, and somehow they always ended up forgiving one another in the end, but Sammi had no idea how to do that. When her temper did get out of her control, she would stay mad for a while, but it never seemed to take long for her forgiving nature to reassert itself. She had never been the type to hold a grudge.

Sammi bit her lip. She wished she knew how Mark's family – or her family, it seemed – would take this news. Mark was clutching her hand tightly, but he seemed somehow distant, as if he wished he were miles away from her. But maybe Sammi was just projecting her own desire for privacy onto Mark.

Whatever the case, Sammi couldn't wait to get away from this, to call her friend Matilda, who preferred to be called Mat. They hadn't known each other long, but they had become very close. Before meeting the odd girl who owned her own pest-exterminating business, Sammi hadn't really been close to anyone except Mark. She didn't like getting too close to people, because if you let someone in, you ran the risk of losing them forever, and if they had gotten too far into your heart, that pain never really went away. Maybe that was why she didn't love Mark like she should, but how did that explain her nearly-instant bond with Matilda?

Sammi almost groaned aloud; these deep, painful thoughts were just too much to handle right now, especially with everything else that was going on.

* * *

><p>When Norah saw the figure lounging against the tree, she gasped. "I thought I had dreamed you!" she exclaimed.<p>

"Oh, I am no childish fancy, dearie. I'm real!" Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed, sounding delighted about it. "Do you remember what you asked me?"

"Your name – but I know it now!" Norah said, her voice hard and unfriendly. "You are Rumpelstiltskin!"

"Ooh, such hostility toward someone who has already promised to make your dweams come twue," Rumpelstiltskin said, mocking Norah by lisping those last few words. "Or had you forgotten my promise?" There was a gleam in his eye that bordered on evil.

Norah swallowed. "I remember," she said. She knew better than to make a deal with this foul little man, but she suddenly realized that he could, indeed, make her dreams come true. He had the power; he could help her switch places with Robert without anyone else being the wiser. "You also said that all magic comes with a price." She tried to control it, but the longing was plain in her voice. "Would we each owe you something, or would one price be – sufficient?" Her voice faded toward the end of that sentence, so that the last word was only a whisper. Even when she had realized what she was saying, realized that she was actually considering this, she had been unable to stop herself.

Robert looked back and forth between them, confused. But he, too, understood that Rumpelstiltskin could make it possible for him to leave his unpleasant responsibilities behind, so he let Norah do all the talking. As long as she seemed to know what she was doing, he didn't want to interfere. So far, the repulsive imp had barely even acknowledged Robert's presence, and he was content to keep it that way for now.

"Well, that depends on exactly what you want from me, don't you think?" Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his hands together, a greedy look on his face. He knew he had her.

"We just want to look enough like each other, and sound like, as well, that no one can tell that I am not Robert and he is not me." Norah remembered all their long talks. Robert had told her exactly what was expected of him, and had taught her a little bit about using a sword. The bow and arrow she was already familiar with; while not overly skilled, she had done well enough with hunting game for the stewpot. He had described all the people he interacted with, and how she was to speak to them, just as if they had been going to switch places. In turn, Norah had told him everything she could think of in relation to farming. Tricks she had learned from her parents, as well as the sorts of things any farmer would know.

The only thing that Norah did not want to leave behind, oddly enough, was Liam, the newest farmhand. She assumed it was because she had barely gotten to know the young man, and he was such a nice person, she thought, so grounded and sensible, yet friendly and open, so easy to talk to. And he could always make her laugh. But she could hardly tell him her secret, and she certainly couldn't take him with her. She swallowed again. Surely a man who could, perhaps, become a friend was not worth losing her one chance to find her destiny.

"Hmm," mused Rumpelstiltskin. "For a few simple glamors? I suppose I could accept one joint price for that. Provided, of course, that it is a price to which you can both contribute."

Norah licked her lips. What could _that_ mean? But she could not think of any price that they could pay together. Cautiously, she asked, "And what would that, uh, 'joint' price be?"

Rumpelstiltskin stroked his chin for a long moment, considering. "Ah!" he cried at last, holding his hands up as if wondering why he hadn't thought of this earlier. "Your wee basket there," he said, pointing. "The one with the remains of your supper in it."

Robert and Norah both looked down at the basket. It wasn't _that_ small, but it wasn't exactly large, either. All that was left of their meal was a hunk of fresh-baked bread and a small lump of the sharp cheese that was Barlow's wife's specialty. They had eaten all of the small roasted chicken and buried the bones so animals wouldn't gnaw on them. He would do his magics for nothing more than bread and cheese? They exchanged an uncertain, yet hopeful, glance. This was a price they could afford to pay.

After a long moment of silence, Rumpelstiltskin said, "You did nae hesitate this much to pay my price all those years ago, dearie."

"I did not know you then," Norah replied. "Nor had I yet learned to be wary of your prices." She took a slightly shaky breath before asking, "And that basket, with its bread and cheese, that is all you want? That is your price?"

"And the wine still in that bottle there," Rumpelstiltskin added, gesturing to the neck of the wine bottle protruding from one side of the basket.

"'Tis little more than the dregs," Norah protested before she could help herself.

"Your word," Robert cut in, "your word, Rumpelstiltskin, that the basket and its contents are all you want in exchange for helping us switch places."

"Oh, you have my word, dearies," the imp smirked.

"Why –" Robert started to ask before he could stop himself. As the old saying went, you should never look a gift-horse in the mouth.

Raising an eyebrow, Rumpelstiltskin repeated, "Why? Well, I'm feeling a bit peckish, dearies. So many deals to make, and so few hours in the day." That last sentence sounded almost sing-songy. The impish man continued, "'Tis not always easy to find time for such trifling matters as eating." He gave the two young people a look as if to say that they surely understood this. As one, they decided to drop the matter. If this was all he wanted, then they would count themselves lucky. "Just one more question," the impish man said. "Are you _truly_ committed to this? Taking over each other's lives? Or are you going want out of it after a time?"

"No," Norah said, "we want to _be_ each other, forever. We'll be happier that way."

"Good," Rumpelstiltskin said, smirking deviously. He had seen the future, and it was very likely that they would change their minds, but even if they did, he would enjoy rubbing their faces in the fact that he was, in fact, putting them where they rightfully belonged, and there would be no going back. "Well, then, what say you?"

"It's a deal," Norah replied.

"But what of the young man? Or rather, the only one who is _truly_ a young man," Rumpelstiltskin asked slyly.

Norah swallowed. She should have realized earlier that Rumpelstiltskin knew that she was not the young man she pretended to be. He had recognized her immediately, as she had known him.

"After all," Rumpelstiltskin continued, "this supper was for both of you."

"Yes, 'tis a deal," Robert said, his voice suddenly hoarse. He was about to get what he had always wanted. He hated being the heir, being important. He wanted to live his life for himself, not for a kingdom full of people he didn't know. Especially this kingdom, where those very people had chosen to spend seventy years in petty squabbles over who should or should not rule them.

"Excellent!" cried Rumpelstiltskin. He drew his wrists upward, with his palms facing toward his body. In a sudden motion, he flicked both hands out, palms now facing up, as if throwing something. One hand pointed at Robert, the other at Norah. A purplish mist obscured their faces for a moment, and when it receded, the two seemed to be standing in each other's places, wearing each other's clothes. "'Tis done, then!"

Snatching up the basket, Rumpelstiltskin sauntered away, leaving the two seeming young men hastily swapping clothes while giving each other last-minute pointers. Norah had turned her back to Robert, trying to maintain some level of modesty despite her eagerness to put on his clothes and go find his father, and also, she hoped, her destiny.

* * *

><p>Paige wanted to groan. Her back was aching today, and working certainly hadn't helped. Mr. Gold had not said anything to her about her pace, but she was sure he had noticed how slow she'd been. As she walked home, all she could think about was soaking in a nice, hot bath.<p>

When she went to get clean clothes out of her dresser, Paige stopped and stared for a long moment at the lovely old jewelry box sitting on top of the dresser. Even after a few days to get used to the idea, she still found it hard to believe that Mr. Gold had given this back to her. She had taken the tiara out several times and held it, looked at, but she had not yet had the courage to actually put it on. She was afraid that if she did, it would only make it even more obvious that her Storybrooke self was weak, not strong and confident like Eliza.

Without opening the box, she grabbed a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a pair of panties, and after a moment of hesitation, a bra. Sometimes after work, she would go without a bra under her t-shirt, but even though her breasts were no longer as sensitive as they had been earlier in her pregnancy, they still got tender and sore if they bounced around too much, so a bra seemed like the best idea.

* * *

><p>While Paige was relaxing in the bath, her phone went off. <em>Damn,<em> she thought to herself. Sighing, she sat up, almost shivering at how cool the air felt on the skin that was no longer submerged in hot water. She dried off her hands and picked up her phone, which she had left within reach just in case.

The text was from Mike. [Hey, mark's mother – or really sammi's mother, i guess, anyway, mrs. edwards – she just refused the transplant. She's taken the news that mark isn't her son rather hard, and now it seems like she no longer has the will to live. Mark's pretty broken up about it, so i'm staying at his place tonight. So i guess you'll need to go over to gold's, or something…]

Paige sighed again. She didn't like the idea of Mike comforting Mark. She was afraid of what kind of comforting might happen. She huddled in the tub, tears on her face. What if Mark didn't love Sammi because he liked guys, instead?

After her tears had slowed, Paige texted Mike back. [Okay, i'll text mr. gold now. I'm sure he won't mind. Do what you have to do.] She stared at that message for a long moment. She knew she shouldn't intentionally upset Mike, which this text would certainly do, but a petulant look came over her face and she hit the 'send' button on her phone. She felt rather insulted by his comment about her needing to go over to Mr. Gold's, and a childish part of her felt that he deserved the same treatment.

* * *

><p>Gold smirked slightly when he saw Paige's face. When she had texted him, he knew she must be upset that Mike was spending the night with Mark, but he hadn't realized that she would be outright angry about it. He wondered briefly what Mike had said in that text message that would make her mad.<p>

"I have something for you, dove," he said. He could tell that she wasn't in the mood to talk about Mike right now, so he didn't even bother to ask. As he spoke, he led her upstairs to his bedroom. "I had bought it for Valentine's Day, actually, but things didn't quite…work out."

Paige rolled her eyes behind Gold's back. He'd gotten himself arrested for assault and battery; she was pretty sure that it was a lot worse than things simply "not working out."

"Of course, at the time, I had only just learned that your breasts were… enlarged." He smirked, not even needing to see Paige's face to know that this comment would embarrass her. When he entered the master bedroom, Gold went to his dresser and opened one of the smaller drawers along the top. He pulled out a sexy lingerie set. "Since I wasn't sure if the original would fit properly, I ordered a larger size to accommodate them." He eyed her breasts as he said that, with an air of ownership in his eyes.

Paige didn't see his look; she was too busy staring incredulously at the bra he was holding up. It had a sparse lace over the completely sheer fabric, and hooked in the front. Attached to it was a sort of skirt-thing, also sheer but without the lace, making the whole thing overall look like a baby-doll style dress, except that it was open in the front, coming together only where the bra would hook. And it was far too short to be considered a dress. She doubted it would even reach the tops of her thighs!

Gold handed her the bra top and pulled the matching panties out of the drawer. "And as I recall, you're not particularly fond of thongs, so I picked this style instead." He handed the panties over as well, and just sat back and smirked as he watched her react.

Paige held up the panties, holding them gingerly and looking at them as if they might bite her. These panties seemed nothing more than two triangles of that sheer fabric edged in a wide lace, with a double width of that lace sewn together as the crotch of the panties. There was a narrow rectangle of black fabric sewn inside the crotch; she wasn't sure if it was there for modesty's sake or simply to keep the lace from chafing any delicate body parts, but she appreciated it nonetheless. She hoped this would be more comfortable than that thong Gold had once persuaded her to wear.

"Well, go on then," Mr. Gold said. "I want to see you in it."

Swallowing, and starting to wish that she had dared to stay home alone and risk the council finding out that she had disobeyed their rules, Paige headed for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Gold knocked on the bathroom door. Surely Paige should have had enough time to change by now. He called her name, making it a question, and waited for her to open the door.<p>

His phone went off across the room, and he went to check it. It was from Paige. [I'm not coming out in this. I look fat!]

Taking his phone with him, Gold went back to the bathroom door. "Come on, dove, I'm sure you look fine." Trying the knob, he found that the door was locked. "I _do_ have a key to this door, Paige." He waited to hear the lock turn, but nothing happened. "Very well, I'll come in and get you." As he reached up to the top of the doorframe to grab the key, he heard the lock click. He took a step back as Paige slowly opened the door.

She stood framed in the doorway, and as soon as she let go of the door, she put her arm down to wrap around her stomach. Her other arm was already there. She hunched in on herself, not seeming to care that the sheer fabric with its sparse covering of lace left her breasts essentially bared.

Without a word, Gold took hold of Paige's arms and gently pulled on them until she let go of her stomach. She stood there, nearly crying, as Gold looked her up and down. Yes, she was overweight, and there was a wealth of soft flesh around her middle, but Gold smirked; this outfit was even sexier on her than it had been on the model in the catalogue!

"You know, dove," he remarked, "I think you're looking more fit than you used to. How often are you going to those exercise classes with Miss Swann?"

**Twice a week, sometimes three times, if Emma's not too busy,** Paige signed, feeling very self-conscious. **And my stomach's the same size it always was, maybe bigger. According to my doctor, I've gained four pounds since I first started seeing him.**

Gold gave Paige a look that said she was being ridiculous. "You're, what, sixteen weeks pregnant now?" Paige nodded, and Gold continued. "This is about the time you'd be starting to show, as I understand it. If you look at your stomach, it's not as soft as it used to be. You look more pregnant than fat. And other areas have shrunk," he added, glancing at her thighs and her arms. Then he looked back at her thighs and let his gaze linger just between them. His expression made Paige blush.

**But I **_**feel**_** fat,** Paige signed. **And ugly.**

"I believe most pregnant women feel fat, but you are not ugly, dove." Gold's smirk held a touch of mocking in it now. "Do you honestly believe that I would have sex with a woman who was unattractive?"

Paige swallowed. He had a point. But at the same time…

Gold saw her hesitation. "Have I ever lied to you… Eliza?" He used her real name on purpose, and it definitely got her attention. She looked startled, then seemed to be really thinking about his question. He knew that she would eventually remember her own words to him, back when he was making that deal with her father. 'All know that you keep your word,' she had said. When he saw that she had gotten to that point he said, "I swear to you on every deal I've ever made that you are beautiful." His words held an honesty that she rarely heard from him; even when telling the truth, he usually had some foul, selfish purpose in mind.

She stared at him, her eyes shining with tears. She had never considered herself particularly pretty, not even in the world that was. But there, she hadn't been too bothered by that thought. After all, she had found love there, whereas here that love had forsaken her. True, it wasn't exactly his fault, but it still fed into her poor self-image.

Without waiting for Paige to respond, Mr. Gold reached out to touch her. He only fondled her breasts briefly, since that didn't seem to be one of the areas she was worried about. He ran his hands over her stomach and sides, reaching around to her back as well. He let himself feel the rolls of flesh, which really did feel smaller to him, and he knew Paige was watching him closely. He let his face show how much he enjoyed grabbing onto her curves, how much he liked that she was a real woman and not one of those stick-thin models from the catalogues.

It wasn't that he was attracted to her because she was overweight; he lusted after her because she was beautiful just as she was. Drawing her closer, he looked into her eyes. He saw that, for perhaps the first time in this world, Paige accepted the fact that someone could genuinely want her the way she was. He kissed her, and it was a deep, passionate kiss. It didn't compare to the kiss they'd shared at her masquerade in the world that was, because this kiss was about comfort as well as passion.

Gold had a moment to wonder why he had gone to such lengths to reassure Paige, but she worked her hands between their bodies and started fumbling with his clothes. When she couldn't manage to undress him without breaking the kiss, she simply rubbed her hands along his chest, lowering one hand between his legs to grasp him through his pants. For some time after that, he forgot about everything else.

* * *

><p>The next morning, as Paige lay in his arms after they'd had sex again, Gold told her to take Monday off. It was, he explained, the beginning of Miss Blanchard's trial, and he would be quite busy that morning. He told her to consider it a paid vacation day.<p>

* * *

><p>Once he was back in his castle, Rumpelstiltskin examined the basket closely, plucking a few hairs out of a rough spot where the handle met the rim. He kept the cheese; it smelled especially good, but the bread and the wine he tossed aside. That wine really was down to the dregs, and he hardly needed it. A bite of the cheese proved that it tasted even better than it smelled.<p>

He reached into his cupboard and took a small, folded square of cloth from the top shelf. Another folded square lay next to it, but he ignored that one for now. Unfolding the cloth, he removed the lock of hair that was tucked inside. The hair from the cloth was soft and fine, like a child's hair, and Rumpelstiltskin held it alongside the hairs he had just removed from the basket.

Rumpelstiltskin frowned. The girl had not changed for the better over the years; she was still a useless daydreamer, but she had also become so nice it was sickening. Too nice. Granted, that made it easy for people to take advantage of her, which Rumpelstiltskin could use, if he had to, but he hoped the other girl would prove a better prospect. Not only was this Norah sickeningly sweet and nice, but she was too stupid to recognize love when it fell into her lap. She thought of the poor man as someone who could become a _friend._ What a useless girl!

Hoping to find better results, Rumpelstiltskin left immediately, heading for the Blueberry Kingdom.

* * *

><p>On Monday morning, Gold listened as he walked along the street, heading for the courthouse. He smirked to himself when he heard Ruby shriek.<p>

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Stable Boy."

The "unpleasant price" Rumpelstiltskin alludes to has already been revealed. Chapters 12 and 14 tell us that, once the switch was discovered, Felix lost most of the support he'd gathered in his bid for the throne.

Pre-eclampsia is the medical term for high blood pressure, along with an excess of protein in the urine, that occurs only during pregnancy, particularly in a woman who did not have high blood pressure before her pregnancy. In some cases, it can occur within a day or two after the birth (postpartum). For Olivia Edwards, it began almost immediately after she gave birth. Pre-eclampsia is more common among women with certain preexisting conditions, including auto-immune diseases like lupus.

The perineum is part of the skin around the outside of the birth canal, which can be torn during childbirth. Some doctors prefer to make a small incision there just before the birth to prevent tearing – making a cleaner wound that, in theory, will heal more easily than a tear.

I hope you enjoyed it!

Please Review!


	18. S1 Ch18 - Axe For Hire

So here it is! Only a few more chapters left for Season One!

As usual, I do not own ABC's show, characters, etc, only my own characters and storylines...

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Muffet wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of one hand. Her other hand held the long-handled battle axe at the ready, and she kept her eyes focused on her opponent. She had learned that lesson the hard way, and the bruise on the side of her face had only just started to fade. <em>Take your eyes off your opponent for even a moment,<em> Teacher had said, _whether because the sweat stung your eyes or because you make the mistake of feeling overconfident, and that moment could well be your last._

Only her opponent's eyes showed. The rest of his face was covered by a snug cowl that almost seemed to be adhered to his skin. She had hoped to pull it off, but she had never been able to get close enough. It was just one more irritating thing about this nameless man. When she had found him, just before her 17th birthday, he had told her that he didn't care what she called him.

"Why won't you show your face?" Muffet asked, and it was far from the first time she had asked this question. Muffet circled the man warily as she continued, hoping to taunt him into either revealing his face or at least making a mistake. She had tried most everything else. "I've got all these theories, you see. Maybe you're terribly scarred and that makes you self-conscious. Maybe you're afraid I'll start calling you Scar if I see it. Or maybe you're just really ugly. But then again, maybe you're so beautiful underneath that cowl that you're afraid women would rip off all your clothes and have their way with you if they saw your pretty face. Although," Muffet added almost pensively as a new thought came to mind, "maybe you _do_ have a pretty face, but you're afraid something will happen to it. Who knows, jealous opponents may intentionally go for that lovely face so that you won't be prettier than them." Muffet gave a mocking half-smile. "So which is it? Or is it something else I haven't thought of yet?"

The snug cowl moved with his face as he spoke. "Tell you what," he answered. "If you can best me, right here, right now, I'll take this thing off." He brushed the fingers of one hand lightly against his cloth-covered jaw. His voice sounded condescending, as if he didn't believe Muffet could do it. "We'll fight to first blood. But I warn you, girl, this is your _only_ chance. Whether you accept now or not, I will never make this offer again."

Muffet gritted her teeth at his superior tone. "Prepare yourself to lose, Teacher!" She had stopped circling while her Teacher made this offer, and had been standing perfectly still. But as she cried out her challenge, she was suddenly moving very fast, running directly at the man who claimed to have no name, this infuriating man who had taught her much these past several months.

She watched him prepare for the move he expected her to make, the move she usually made when she attacked outright like this. Muffet felt a spark of satisfaction at the way Teacher's eyes widened when she threw herself into a sideways flip instead, swinging the axe at his legs as she went. He twisted aside, but without as much grace as he could usually muster; he had definitely been caught by surprise. That little satisfied feeling only grew. Even as her momentum carried her upright again, bringing her feet back to the forest floor, Muffet mentally chased down that little spark, stamping it out firmly until she couldn't think why she should feel satisfied. That feeling of triumph was dangerous; it could lead to overconfidence, which could get her killed. She didn't think Teacher was likely to let things get that far out of hand, but as she remembered from her time in Prince Andrew's training camp, accidents can happen even under controlled circumstances.

Instead of waiting for Teacher to react, Muffet began swinging the axe in a wide arc as soon as her feet were planted. Normally, she held the haft in the middle, but a little nearer to the heavy blades. As the axe swung, she loosened her grip slightly, letting the long shaft slip through her fingers. When she clasped it again, she held it only a bare few inches from the end furthest from the twin blades. She let it swing around again, dipping it lower directly in front of her, pulling her off balance so she had to run. She felt like there was nothing else in the world but her opponent and herself. The axe seemed like a part of her own body. As the axe came around a third time, Teacher was almost in range. Without needing to decide it, Muffet made a dangerous move. Dangerous for Teacher if he was not fast enough, and dangerous for herself if he was. She let go with one hand, leaning forward into the blow.

The axe bit deep into the sod, flinging leaves and twigs into the air. A clump of damp soil came at Muffet's face, but she only tilted her chin up so it would not hit her eyes. Where had Teacher gone? Muffet ignored the cool, thick mud at the corner of her mouth, looking around for her adversary. But she didn't rely solely on sight; she listened, too. She grabbed the handle of her axe as she would normally hold it, and prepared to tug it out of the dirt. But a slight sound, behind her and to the right, made her nod to herself. So there he was. She had a split second; not enough time to both free the axe _and_ raise it for a defensive maneuver.

So instead, Muffet did a forward roll right over the protruding axe handle, which was roughly parallel to her. She kept one hand on the axe's haft, and when she landed on her back, she used that hand to spin herself around so that her feet were facing toward her attacker. The movement also pulled her closer to the axe handle, and she ended up underneath it. That was good; it put her feet at just the right spot. Teacher was nearly on her by then, his own short-hafted, single-bladed battle axe held high. Since Muffet's feet were still up in the air, she was able to let Teacher run straight into them, and a split second before he hit, she started to rock back, hard. Teacher went flying over Muffet's head, but not as far as she could have thrown him. Her legs had hit the axe handle, slowing her momentum. But with Teacher's weight and the force she was using to throw him, she had hit the haft hard enough to wrench the axe blade sideways in the dirt, so when she scrambled to her feet, it was easy to pull the axe out of the dirt.

Teacher had dropped his axe when he hit the ground, and Muffet moved quickly, putting herself between him and his weapon even as she pressed a crescent blade to the side of Teacher's neck. There was still some dirt on the blade, complete with a clump of long grass. As she started to shift the blade, carefully cutting through the fabric so she could bleed him and thus win this fight, Muffet felt a sudden, sharp pain low on her stomach. Her triumphant expression faded a bit, and for a moment, she couldn't figure out what had happened. She backed away, putting her hand to the spot.

"Blast!" she hissed as she felt something wet.

Teacher was wiping off a short dagger before re-sheathing it. "Never assume you have won until your enemy is dead," he said. As usual, his tone was insufferably condescending. He calmly fingered the sliced edges of the cowl along the side of his neck. "I do have to commend you, though. I never thought you'd get close enough for even this."

"That was a dirty trick." Muffet's voice was low and threatening, even though she knew she could not back up that threat. She was simply no match for Teacher.

As he got up and walked past Muffet, Teacher yanked her axe out of her hands and grabbed the front of her shirt, dragging her roughly along beside him. Despite Muffet's protests, he pulled her across the large clearing to where two logs had been pulled up around a fire. He pushed Muffet toward one of the logs. She stumbled and nearly fell over the log.

His voice was angry. "You prepare yourself to fight Wolfs, yet you snivel and cry when your enemy does something unfair?" As he spoke, Teacher was digging in the large shapeless bag he used to carry his things with him. "Even if you refuse to fight dirty yourself, you must understand that you are not fighting honorable knights on the tourney-field!" His tone made it clear that he did not approve of the idea that she might choose to fight fairly. "Wolfs care not for honor or compassion; they only know the baser instincts. They will not hesitate to go for the kill, even if you stumble in the dirt like a doddering old man!"

Teacher had finally found what he sought; a roll of bandage and a small paper packet of herbs. He put some of the herbs into his small pot with just a little water and placed the pot over the fire. While he waited, he folded up the end of the bandage into a thick piece that he then ripped off. Taking a rather bent spoon, he reached into the pot and began to mash the herbs up. The resulting smell was strong, but soothing. Teacher pulled the pot off the fire, holding the handle with his wide sleeve so he wouldn't burn himself.

Muffet wanted to argue, but she knew Teacher was right. She couldn't expect a fair fight from the Wolfs, so why shouldn't Teacher train her to fight an opponent who had no honor?

Once the herbal tincture had cooled for a few minutes, Teacher spooned it out onto the square of folded bandage. "Take off your pants, girl," he said brusquely.

"What?" Muffet, who hadn't noticed what Teacher was doing, was taken aback. The first thought that crossed her mind was that he wanted payment for his training, and that for some reason he had suddenly decided to take that payment in what her mama had termed "wifely duties."

"Take them off or I will cut them off." Since only his eyes showed, Teacher's expression was very difficult to gauge. "Do you _want_ to spend the evening with your bare bum on that filthy log while you sew them back together? That seems like a waste of time."

Still apprehensive, Muffet slowly unlaced the waist of her leather pants and slid them off. She never bothered to wear anything underneath unless the moon was waxing, bringing on the cycle that marked her womanhood. She struggled a little as Teacher pushed up her shirt and vest, telling her to hold them out of his way.

When he pressed the herb-soaked compress to her wound, Muffet gasped, partly in surprise, partly in relieved understanding. As Teacher wrapped part of the rolled bandage around her narrow hips to hold the compress in place, he said, "'Tis but a shallow wound, and should not trouble you much. But let this be a lesson: Never ignore any wound, however minor. Even a small, simple cut can become infected, and if left untended, an infection can poison your blood, slowly killing you."

"Yes, Teacher," Muffet said, her voice a bit weak.

The man frowned as Muffet gratefully tugged her pants back on. "If clothes are this vital to you, we shall have to do some training without them. Modesty is only a hindrance for a would-be avenger. 'Twould be a shame if you died because a Wolf managed to accidentally slice off your shirt, or some such nonsense. I would hate to have wasted so much of my time." He looked around, gauging the strength of the sun. It was the hottest part of the summer, although the heat was not so bad here in the woods as it would be on the plains, or in a town. "But we shall take care to keep you out of direct sunrays. I do not wish to hear you whine if that ridiculously pale skin of yours should happen to burn."

* * *

><p>Matilda was seriously starting to regret bringing flowers. She felt ridiculous with them, as if everyone was staring at her, judging her because the flowers were not for an actual patient. She knew no one could tell that just by looking, but she felt awkward all the same.<p>

She was so deep in her thoughts that she nearly walked into someone. "Oh, sorry!" Matilda exclaimed, looking up. "Sheriff Swann! I didn't see you there!"

Emma gave a wry smile. "You looked like you were a million miles away," she said, amused.

Matilda put out her hand to shake Emma's. "I'm Mat Billger." At Emma's raised eyebrow, she added, "Matilda, really, but I prefer Mat."

"Okay," Emma said slowly, thinking. "You're the one with the bug business, right?"

It was Matilda's turn to smile wryly. "Anti-bug business, actually," she joked.

Emma chuckled. Nodding at the bouquet in Matilda's hand, she asked, "So who are you here to see, Mat?"

Blushing, Matilda stammered a bit as she answered. "Well, um, actually, they're for a, ah, friend of mine. She's… not a patient here, but she's, well, had a pretty tough week, really." Because of her discomfort, Matilda felt an odd need to explain further. "Her mother is dying, but she only just found out that it _is_ her mother."

Emma, who had been somewhat amused at Matilda's embarrassed explanation, was confused now. "What?"

"Apparently, she was switched at birth, but no one realized until about a week ago," Matilda replied.

"Really? I thought that kind of thing only happened on TV," Emma said, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Oh, it gets weirder," Matilda said. "The baby that was sent home with her parents? Turns out that she's now engaged to him!" Matilda felt a twinge of guilt; not only did this feel a lot like gossip, but shortly after learning about the switch, Sammi had confessed that she'd been having second thoughts about Mark for quite some time.

Emma's mouth had fallen open. "No way! That's way too weird. You made that part up," she said, half joking, half fascinated.

Holding her hand at shoulder level, palm outward, Matilda made a Girl Scout sign, three fingers held straight up while her thumb folded over her pinkie to hold it in place. "Scout's honor," she swore.

Just then, someone shoved blindly between them and rushed further down the hall to a small, private waiting room.

"Oh, man, that was her," Matilda said, her stomach sinking. Rushing after her friend, Matilda hoped nothing too terrible had happened.

Hurrying into the small room, Matilda didn't even see Sammi at first, but as soon as she heard a stifled sob, she knew where to go. This waiting room was for the families of patients in the ICU, patients who were in critical condition. The room was actually bigger than it seemed, but a very large fish tank jutted out into the room from the wall by the door, giving the room a sort of horseshoe shape around the tank. This way, if more than one family was waiting in here, they could be on either side of the tank, or at its narrower end, giving an illusion of privacy. She found her friend all the way around the tank, sitting on the floor with her head in her arms on the seat of one of the couches.

"Sam?" Matilda said hesitantly. "What's wrong?"

Sammi lifted her head and turned toward her friend. She had been trying hard not to give in to her emotions, but the caring note in Matilda's voice nearly undid her. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself again, Sammi opened her mouth to answer, but all that came out was a wail that turned into a long bout of sobbing. In that first instant, Matilda was there, wrapping her arms around her friend, whispering the sort of soothing nonsense that she had always disliked, but she didn't know what else to do. She still didn't know what, exactly, was wrong.

After a while, Sammi's sobs were quieter and further apart, with the occasional hiccup in between. Pulling away a little so she could see her friend's tear-streaked face, Matilda asked, "Sammi, what happened?"

Sammi's voice was a little hoarse and shaky as she answered. "I know it's – it's stupid, but Mark – he – he broke up with me! He said… that he hasn't wanted to marry me for a long time now."

"Oh, Sam," Matilda sighed. "But I thought you felt the same way." She put a hint of a questioning lilt in that; perhaps she had misunderstood Sammi somehow, but she was sure that's what her friend had said.

"I know!" Sammi cried, almost a wail. "That's why it's just so – stupid!"

"Don't say that," Matilda said gently. "Sometimes we can't understand why things upset us, but they do. It's not stupid to let it out. What _would_ be stupid would be to hold it in and let it fester."

It wasn't until Emma leaned in to hand Sammi a box of tissues that Matilda realized the sheriff had followed her into the waiting room. "Here," Emma said.

"Thanks, Sheriff," Sammi said, her voice still wavering a bit.

"Please, call me Emma."

"Emma," Sammi repeated. "Thanks." She pulled out a tissue to blow her nose.

"You going to be alright?" Emma asked.

"Yeah," Matilda said, "we'll be fine."

"Yes, Emma, we'll be fine," Sammi said, echoing her friend. "I think it's just that this happened now, after everything else. To find out that my real parents are still alive, and that my mother, at least, hates me so much that she'd rather die than accept a kidney from me."

After a pause while Matilda tried to figure out what to say to comfort her friend, Emma spoke up. "Someone once told me that biology doesn't make someone a parent. A parent is someone who takes care of a child, and is there for her. You had a mother, Sammi, she just wasn't biologically related to you. That woman in there who won't take your kidney? She's just a woman who had a baby."

Sammi stared at Emma for a long moment. "Thank you," she whispered. "That really helps a lot." Her eyes were shining with tears again, but this time they were grateful tears.

"Yeah, well, I don't really know much about that from the kid's side of it. And it wasn't until a friend pointed it out that I started to understand it from the parent's side." Emma swallowed, looking serious.

"May I ask who?" said Matilda.

"A girl named Paige." Emma gave a wry chuckle. "She may not be able to speak, but she sure makes a lot of sense."

"That red-head who works for Gold?" Matilda wasn't quite able to keep her loathing for Gold out of her voice.

"Mike's girlfriend," Sammi said softly.

"That's the one," Emma said, answering them both. "You feeling better?" she asked Sammi.

"Yeah, I guess I am." She looked distracted, trying to process the thought that had just occurred to her. "He broke up with me over the phone! He didn't even have the balls to tell me to my face!"

"What an asshole," Emma remarked, at the same time that Matilda said, "You're better off without him, Sam."

With a shaky laugh, Sammi said, "You're both right." Her eyes lit on something off to the side. "Hey, thanks for the flowers, but I think they've seen better days."

When Matilda followed Sammi's gaze, she saw the somewhat battered bouquet. She didn't remember tossing it onto the couch against the wall, but there it was, with some loose petals scattered around it. Suddenly Sammi and Matilda both broke out into loud laughter at the sight. Smiling, Emma quietly left the room, leaving the two friends to their joke.

* * *

><p>Panting as they faced each other, Muffet and Teacher both looked worn out. Muffet still hadn't been able to get close enough to try to remove the cowl, but in the past few weeks, Teacher hadn't been able to bleed her, either.<p>

"I have taught you all I can," Teacher said, his voice neutral.

"But I've never beaten you," Muffet said. Part of her was pleased at his words. She seldom received any compliments from him, and when he didn't seem surprised that she had impressed him, he spoke as if he were off-handedly discussing the weather. But she was used to that now.

"I can't teach you that," he said, mocking her a little bit. "You'll have to grow into _that_ on your own. But I think Wolfs will give you no trouble, now."

Oddly, Muffet felt tears prick her eyes. It wasn't as if she knew the man well; after nearly a year, she still knew nothing of his personal life or his background. But even so, she was surprised to discover that she would miss him, at least a little bit.

"I will do you proud, Teacher," she swore, not letting her emotions show.

Teacher snorted softly. "Just don't get yourself killed. And if you do, don't tell anyone that _I_ trained you." He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked away, his axe swinging at his side as he walked.

After she had lost sight of him, Muffet realized that he had made a joke. She was still the butt of it – he was mocking her to the last – but she chuckled softly, and perhaps a little bit sadly. She would probably never see her Teacher again. Turning in the opposite direction, Muffet made her way out of the little wood. It was time to find the Wolfs' latest hunting grounds.

* * *

><p>Gold watched August leave. He wondered who this stranger could be, what the man was really looking for in his office. He started putting away the bells he'd been showing young Henry.<p>

When the bell over the door tinkled again, Gold looked up. It was Paige, and Gold could see Emma's yellow beetle pulling away outside. "How did your appointment go, dove?" he asked.

**It was good. I'm actually a little behind on my weight gain, but the doctor didn't seem too worried about it. **Paige was carrying a bag that looked like it held leftovers. **I'm going to take this upstairs real quick,** she signed.

"Actually, while you're up there, how about making us a spot of tea? I've got some of that blueberry up there for you," Gold said enticingly. He would prefer Paige be out of the way for the encounter that was about to happen.

**Oh, okay, **Paige signed. Her face had lit up at the mention of that tea. **And I assume you'll take your Earl Grey, as usual?**

"Of course, dove," he said, smirking. "And no need to rush."

**Oh, and by the way, Emma says we're invited to a welcome-home party for Mary Margaret this evening. Um, Mike's going, too. **Paige looked uncertain; she knew that Mike hated Mr. Gold, and she got the feeling that Gold didn't much care for Mike, either.

"I'm sure that'll be lovely," Gold said, his face betraying nothing. August would probably be there; he had been hanging around the Sheriff a lot lately. Perhaps Gold could get some information about the man. After a pause, Gold reminded Paige, "Tea, dove? Run along, then."

Blushing, Paige gave a quick smile and a nod before disappearing into the back room. She hadn't been upstairs long when Regina stormed in.

"You broke our deal," she snapped.

* * *

><p>When Paige came back downstairs, Regina had been gone for a few minutes already. The tea soothed Gold's irritation; Paige knew just how he liked it. Paige seemed a little subdued all morning, and Gold wasn't sure if she was worried about her weight gain or if she was just tired. As he was locking up for lunch, he asked, "Are you alright, dove?"<p>

**It's nothing. My feet are pretty sore, that's all. I should have worn my flats, not these sneakers,**Paige signed. She flushed slightly, a sure sign that she wasn't telling the entire truth. But Gold decided to let it go.

"Well," he replied, "why don't you take them off, at least for lunch." Turning, he headed for the stairs in the back of the building.

* * *

><p>"That was delicious, as usual, Paige," Mr. Gold said as he finished his lunch. As Paige served herself a second helping, he took his plate over to the sink to wash it. Since Paige was still busy eating, he stood in front of the counter, right at the end, to double-check the placement of the full-length mirror he had moved over next to the end of the counter. He had placed it there when he came upstairs for lunch, knowing that Paige would take a little longer than usual coming up the steps. He stepped back from the counter, checking to see how much space he would need.<p>

Glancing at the mirror again, he frowned and moved closer to reposition it. He heard Paige at the sink, washing her plate, and turned to face her.

**What are you doing?** signed Paige, clearly confused.

Instead of answering, Mr. Gold reached out to unbutton Paige's pants. As he smirked at her, she licked her lips, flushing a little. She started to undo the buttons on her dress shirt, hesitantly at first, but when Gold didn't tell her not to, she worked faster, pulling off her shirt and lifting her thin camisole over her head.

Gold had her pants around her ankles now, and she stepped out of them. She had removed her socks as well as her shoes before they had started eating, so she was left wearing nothing but her bra and panties. When she twisted her arms around behind herself to unhook her bra, Mr. Gold began to stroke her through her panties. Slipping one finger between the thin fabric and her body, he found that she was already rather wet, which only made his smirk deepen. He liked knowing that he had this effect on her.

With his finger distracting her, she was having a hard time with the hooks on her bra, but she finally got them all undone and let the bra drop to the floor. With the hand that wasn't busy between her legs, Gold reached up to trace the lines of the mask etched over her heart before cupping her left breast. Still stroking the sweet spot, he lowered his face while lifting her breast so he could suck her nipple. Paige's back arched, and she had a moment where she almost lost her balance.

Mr. Gold stopped touching Paige long enough to undress himself. Then he turned Paige to face the counter, saying softly, "Bend over, dove." He had positioned her so that, when she did, her breasts were pressed against the counter, but her stomach was over the open air. He seldom entered her from behind, and with her growing belly, he wanted to be sure she was comfortable. He slipped her panties down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor around her feet. As she shifted her stance, spreading her legs apart, she caught the edge of her panties with one foot so she could kick them aside, out of the way.

As he stepped up behind Paige, Mr. Gold checked the mirror. "Turn your head the other way, dove," he said. When she did, she realized that she could see Gold's face in the mirror. He grinned wickedly, and Paige realized that this was what he had been doing when she asked. She knew he liked to watch her face.

He slid into her, but didn't reach around to touch the sweet spot. He knew she liked that kind of stimulation, and he wanted to see what would happen if he didn't provide it. Instead, he gripped her hips as he found his rhythm. In the mirror, he met Paige's eyes, and realized that Paige had come to enjoy watching his face, as well. Knowing she would interpret it properly, he let that realization show in his expression. He was amused by Paige's reaction. She blushed, embarrassed, but was also more turned on at the same time.

Moving his hips faster, Gold watched Paige's face closely. He saw the moment when she realized why she was not enjoying herself as much as she usually did. She looked at him imploringly, and he shook his head no, grinning wickedly. For several moments, Paige tried shifting her hips, but nothing gave her the stimulation she craved. Gold watched greedily as Paige's right hand came off the counter, slowly moving between her legs. He enjoyed seeing the embarrassment in her eyes.

Paige touched herself, gasping slightly as her finger hit the sweet spot. She tried to look away, but her gaze was always drawn back to the mirror, back to meet his knowing eyes. As Gold began to speed up his rhythm, Paige experimented with different speeds and pressures, until suddenly, she found herself of the verge of an orgasm. She was so embarrassed that part of her wanted to stop, but she moved her fingers faster, and her body was soon convulsing. The tightening of her muscles as she orgasmed was enough to bring Mr. Gold as well.

When it was over, they found themselves kneeling on the floor, with Paige's face and chest pressed against the cabinet and Gold's face buried in Paige's hair against her neck. He noticed that her hair smelled nice.

"That was amazing, dove," Gold said. He could feel Paige tense up a little and knew that she was still ashamed that she had touched herself. He didn't know if she had ever done that in private or not, but he knew she was mortified that she had done it in front of him. It was just a shame, he thought, that he hadn't been able to see exactly what she was doing.

* * *

><p>As Mr. Gold was unlocking the shop's front door after their lunch hour, he said, "Paige, why don't you run along and buy yourself a more comfortable pair of shoes? And perhaps sneakers in a larger size, if you still intend to exercise with Miss Swann for the remainder of your pregnancy."<p>

**Oh, are you sure? I probably should have done that after… um… after lunch. **Paige flushed, remembering what they'd done – what _she_ had done.

"Not at all, dove, a pregnant woman needs her rest. Especially after strenuous activities." He smirked as Paige's blush deepened. "Now run along, you'll be more comfortable once you get something more suitable," Gold said, holding the door for her. As if it were an afterthought, he added, "And by the way, just tell the shop to bill me for whatever you purchase."

Turning back, Paige signed, **Thank you!** and left. As soon as she was on her way, Gold pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"Good afternoon, Johnson's Herbs and Natural Remedies, how may I help you?"

"Ah, Mr. Johnson," Gold said, smirking.

"Mr. Gold." Johnson's voice had lost that glad, helpful sound. Now he sounded unsure, wary. "What do you need?"

"Why ever should I need something?" Gold asked, enjoying himself hugely.

Johnson bit back a sigh. "You don't call me just to chat, Mr. Gold. You call me when you want something from me."

Johnson was right, of course. For instance, when Gold had been backing Emma for the post of Sheriff, he had called Johnson and asked him to do a little word-of-mouth publicity for Emma. Johnson had reluctantly done so, making certain to emphasize that she was backed by Gold. Of course, Gold had known that he would do so, and had counted on it. Gold had wanted to make sure that people knew from the start that he was backing Emma. It made her defiance of him stand out even more, swinging the vote to Emma easily after that travesty of a debate. Gold grinned wickedly at the memory. Caleb Johnson had no idea how instrumental he had been for Emma's election.

"Now, I do believe one side of your shop has a rather good view of Granny's," Gold said. Without waiting for a reply, he continued. "Tell me, is the writer's motorcycle parked outside?"

There was a pause as Johnson made his way to the appropriate window. "No, it's – oh, wait, he just pulled up," Johnson replied. "He's getting off the bike… and… heading inside."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Johnson. And if you should happen to notice any of his comings and goings, would you be so kind as to inform me?" Gold smiled sinisterly. "And since you live above your shop, don't hesitate to call me at _any_ hour with an update."

"Why are you so interested in him?" Johnson asked.

Gold simply smirked, even though Johnson couldn't see it, and said, "Thanks again, Mr. Johnson." With that, he hung up the phone. He knew Johnson would do it, even though the man quite naturally had no idea why he always did whatever Gold asked. That was one deal that was proving more fruitful than Rumpelstiltskin had anticipated.

* * *

><p>Even though she had been doing this for months now, Muffet still found it uncomfortable to bring the good news to these little outlying villages. Part of it was envy that her own village had not been saved thus, but mostly it was the villagers' extreme gratitude. But even though it was awkward for her, she felt that the people deserved to know that they were safe, at least for a time.<p>

A small crowd had begun to gather, following her as she made her way to the town square. A boy no older than five picked up a rock and aimed it at the huge severed head in Muffet's hand, but when she turned a fierce, pointed glare at him, he turned pale and dropped the rock. As she passed him, Muffet noticed that he sidled into the back of the crowd to follow along, but she didn't mind that, as long as he didn't pick up any more rocks. There was a scar above her elbow where a girl of twelve had missed; after that, Muffet had paid better attention to the crowds. They could mount the head on a stake and let everyone in the village throw things at it all they liked, once she had delivered it. Once she was well away from the disgusting thing. She tightened her grip on the thick, coarse fur, watching the crowd carefully.

When she had reached the village commons, she held the head up as high as she could. The word had spread, and anyone that hadn't joined the crowd following Muffet had gathered here, including the mayor.

"The pack is dead!" she cried. Her words were met with cheers and merriment. Turning to the mayor, she continued in a normal voice. The rest of the villagers were keeping a respectful distance as they prepared further celebrations of their good fortune; no one else would hear. "This was the pack leader's head." She dropped the head to the ground with a heavy, slightly squishy thud that sprayed dirt and a little bit of blood onto her already-filthy boots.

"I can't promise you'll be safe forever, but it should take at least a few months before their scent fades enough that another pack would start sniffing around." Muffet kept her face serious, but calm.

The mayor's face, however, turned pale and worried. "You mean this could happen all over again?"

"As I said, Mayor, it would be at least a few months to a half-year, if not longer," Muffet replied. "Try to smile, Mayor; you don't want to frighten the people. Besides," she added, her face suddenly fierce, "if I have my way, I'll have killed enough Wolfs by then that they won't have enough young alphas to need more territory."

The mayor smoothed his features; he couldn't manage a very convincing smile, but at least he no longer looked scared. "Please, how can we repay you for this?"

"That will not be necessary," Muffet answered, her politeness forced. This was the part she always dreaded most.

"But we must! You have saved us all! We have all of us heard the tales of Thornwood Village, the one that was destroyed nearly two years ago." The mayor's face was grim as he named that sad village, but it brightened as he said, "If not for you, Reyan's Well would have fallen, too, and we would all be dead!" When he noticed the pain in Muffet's eyes, the mayor patted her shoulder consolingly. "You were too young to save Thornwood, do not blame yourself. You were probably still learning to wield that magnificent axe of yours."

Muffet shrugged the mayor's hand off. "I had not started learning it yet," she said, her voice hoarse. As the mayor started to speak again, no doubt some comforting nonsense she didn't want to hear, she said, "Is there someplace where I can clean up, and maybe wash my clothes?"

"My wife will take care of that," replied the mayor. "We have a daughter about your size; she only has dresses, but if you feel you need breeches, I'm sure one of the young men will lend you a spare pair."

"I have spare clothes in my pack," Muffet said. They were almost as patched and worn as what she now had on, but they were still serviceable.

"Well, my wife is inside," the mayor said, indicating the only house that opened directly onto the commons. "She will draw you a bath and see to your clothes. You should have plenty of time before the feast tonight."

Muffet had given up trying to avoid the feasts these villages always held for her. She knew her own village, her beloved Thornwood, would have done the same if someone had saved them from destruction. Besides, killing Wolfs always made her hungry.

* * *

><p>Muffet had discovered that she had been both wrong and right in assuming that it was a large pack of Wolfs that had raided Thornwood, and in assuming that the same pack had been attacking other villages. She had since studied the Wolfs closely, and had learned that each pack had a territory. But when a pack grew too large, it would split, with one or more smaller groups leaving to find their own territory.<p>

She could never be absolutely certain, but she had come to believe that the pack nearest her village had grown quite large, and that the attack on her village had happened before the smaller packs had broken off. She had discovered a pattern: when a pack had grown too large, most of the grown Wolfs went out on a larger raid than normal, sating themselves and bringing food back for the cubs and the few grown Wolfs left in the den to watch the cubs. She could never think of that without shuddering. Locke, and so many others, had been dragged away for that purpose.

Once the entire pack was sated, the alpha males began fighting for dominance; the winner stayed with the main pack, while any losers left with a scattering of non-alpha males, females, and any cubs belonging to those grown Wolfs. Some of the less powerful alpha males would back a stronger Wolf, binding themselves to their chosen leader.

So part of that pack had stayed there, not far from Muffet's village, while others left. She didn't know how many smaller groups had split off, and she didn't care. She wanted to kill _all_ Wolfs, not just the ones that had destroyed her life. If any Wolfs were left alive, this sort of thing could happen all over again.

There were days when Muffet was glad that the spider had frightened her. As large as the attack was, and since she was at the outskirts of the village to stand guard, she probably would not have survived, and maybe everyone else would still have died. Then who would avenge her friends and family? But there were times when she cursed that spider. At least if she were dead, she wouldn't have to keep having these nightmares about the attack. Ever since she had started to fight Wolfs, she had started to dream of the attack itself, as well as the aftermath. Even though she hadn't been there, she could now easily imagine the Wolfs pouring into the village in the dark, snouts bloodied as the savage teeth ripped into the soft flesh of the people she had loved, the people she had hated, and everyone in between.

Muffet was jolted out of her miserable thoughts by the mayor's voice. "Please," he said, yet again, "you must let us repay you somehow. We don't have much money, but we've got plenty of food, and the things we've been making for trade. Fine cloth, and well-dyed, or perhaps you would like tooled leather covers for your axe blades, to keep them from rusting? Anything we have, we would gladly give to you. And what we do not have, if we can make it, it is yours."

Muffet realized she had not been eating. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, she took a heaping forkful of the shepherd's pie that the village women had made. It was also a good way to avoid answering the mayor. The vegetables here were the best she'd ever had; potatoes, peas, carrots, and mushrooms in the main dish, with yellow squash, zucchini, and eggplant served on the side. The vegetables not included in the shepherd's pie had been glazed with a savory-seasoned oil and grilled over an open fire to the perfect consistency.

"Girls!" The mayor's voice sounded shocked. Muffet looked up to see two little girls gawking at the huge severed head near the table where she and the mayor were eating with the members of the village council. The mayor continued, "What are you two doing up here? You're a bit young for something so frightening."

"Bethi wanted to see," said the younger girl, a brunette of perhaps six.

"Seraphina too," the other hastened to add. She might have been two years older than the other girl, and her hair was black.

Muffet turned back to her food, then looked back at the girls, staring incredulously.

"What would your mothers say?" the mayor admonished. "You are both old enough to know that you cannot use your dolls as an excuse to do what you know you should not!" The mayor looked around, craning to try to find their mothers in the crowd of happy, feasting villagers.

Muffet left her seat and knelt in front of the girls. "Your dolls are beautiful," she said, almost whispering. "Wherever did you get them?" For she recognized the craftsmanship. The younger girl's mother had arrived in time to hear the question.

"A trader from Thornwood Village, oh, two and a half years ago, it was," the woman answered. "Beautifully made, and so reasonably priced. The young woman who made them could have charged twice as much, maybe more."

"Enid just wanted little girls to have something lovely. She didn't care about the money," Muffet whispered, crying.

"What was that?" The woman leaned closer. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Muffet said, loud enough to be understood. "It's just – I knew the girl who made these."

"Aren't you a bit young to have done much traveling before Thornwood Village was destroyed?" The mayor had stopped searching for the other girl's mother. Something about this conversation seemed important.

"I didn't travel before the village was destroyed. I was born there." Muffet couldn't tear her eyes from the two lovely dolls. Fat little Enid had loved making dolls, and ironically enough, she was being courted by the young man who would inherit the business of carving the wooden heads, hands, and feet that she used in making her dolls. It would have become a family business. That girl would accept any payment for one of her dolls, even an old dress or a worn-out pair of boots. As she had once confided to Muffet, she could use the good bits of cloth for the clothing, or at least as part of the filling for the doll's body, and a pair of boots too worn out for a human foot still had enough good leather to make several shoes for dolls. Enid's only grand dream was to someday see a princess playing with one of her dolls. She didn't even care about the idea of a royal payment; she got genuine pleasure from knowing that each doll was loved by a special little girl.

Muffet was too lost in her memories to realize that the mayor and the woman were staring, open-mouthed. Most people did not know that anyone had survived the attack on Thornwood Village.

The younger girl tugged on Muffet's sleeve. "You knew the lady who maked these?"

"Yes," Muffet whispered, "she was my friend."

The girl stared at Muffet very seriously for a long moment. She was young, but she understood about death, as much as a six-year-old can. She knew that it meant Muffet's friend had gone away and could never come back. She had seen how sad that made people. "Then you should have Bethi. She'll love you and make you smile, and you can 'member your fwiend forever with her."

"Oh, no, I could never take her away from you," Muffet said, crying. "She needs you! Enid would have wanted _you_ to have her."

"But the Enid lady was your fwiend," the girl said, pushing her doll into Muffet's arms. The girl was crying, too. "I know you'll take good care of her, and you need Bethi more."

Muffet hugged the doll to her chest. She couldn't protest any longer.

The older girl suddenly said, "Seraphina needs to go with you, too. She'd be lonesome without Bethi. They are bestest friends, just like Millie and me." When Muffet tried to refuse the second doll, the older girl put her arm around the younger girl and continued, "Me and Millie will be okay, we have each other. But you have no one. Except now you have Bethi and Seraphina." Both girls were crying a little over parting with their dolls, and their generosity touched the hearts of everyone near enough to realize what was going on.

"Thank you," Muffet whispered, rocking back and forth as she clutched the two dolls to her chest. "Thank you!"

* * *

><p>When she went to leave the next morning, she discovered that women of the village had taken both sets of her old clothes and replaced them with new. Two pairs of fine leather breeches, two new shirts, two vests, two coats, even two new pairs of boots! The women denied all of it, insisting that they had only returned what she had asked to have washed. Muffet tried to argue with them, but standing there in her night-shirt, she looked like a scrawny girl much younger than her eighteen years. She didn't look nearly as scary as she did fully clothed, with that huge axe in her hand. It was only when the women threatened to "wash" her night-shirt as well that Muffet decided to accept their story as gracefully as possible.<p>

She knew what she wanted to do with those dolls, and already her mind was swimming with ideas to expand on it. She would go back to her village, and build a small hut, open on one side, and make a sort of shrine to her village. She would gather things that reminded her of every single person that had died in the attack, and put them in the shrine to honor the people she had lost. These dolls would be the first, and they would guard over everything else.

* * *

><p>Paige had tried to talk to Gold at the party, but he was lurking off to one side, eying the group of merrymakers suspiciously. Paige thought at first that he was glaring at Mike, but after a while, she began to realize that it was someone else. His unfriendly stares seemed more pointed at the newcomer, that tall, good-looking writer that Henry was talking to.<p>

She had been a little surprised to see Henry; she rather got the feeling that Regina wouldn't want him here. But that was none of her business, and besides, Mike was staying close to her tonight. He had been spending a lot of time with Mark recently, so she was delighted to have him with her for the party, even if she couldn't have him all to herself. It was better than sitting at home, or sitting at Gold's, wondering what might be happening between the guys. Mike had dropped quite the bombshell on the way to the party. Mark had broken up with Sammi. It only made Paige worry more about the time the two guys spent together.

Not long after Emma bustled Henry off, Paige noticed that Mr. Gold was nowhere to be seen. When she asked, Emma told her that Gold had said his farewells and left. Paige was a surprised to realize that she was a little bit upset that he hadn't said goodbye to her. She wondered if he'd had something better to do, or if he had felt uncomfortable here, around so many people who didn't much like or trust him.

* * *

><p>The next day, Gold was agitated. That drawing he had found in August's room last night had unsettled him. Who here could possibly know of that dagger? Johnson had texted him when August had left for the party last night, and then again rather late when the man had returned to the bed-and-breakfast. Gold had been long gone from the place by then, of course, but once he'd pumped Emma for information, he had quickly realized that the party had presented him with the perfect opportunity. Not only was August out of his room for a time, but Granny and Ruby were both at the party, as well. No one to see him picking the lock.<p>

He knew Paige had noticed his preoccupation, but she also picked up on the fact that he had no intention of discussing it, so she acted as if everything were normal. Johnson had informed Gold this morning that August had left, but that had been around the time Paige was due in for work. He was waiting to hear when the man came back; he needed to know where August was going and to whom he was speaking. He wanted to know everything he could about this stranger.

Early that afternoon, Gold received a call from Johnson. August had returned to Granny's, presumably for lunch. Mr. Gold told Paige he had some business to take care of. "I've left paper and pen by the register, in case anyone should come in while I'm gone. Just write them a note to tell them I've stepped out for a bit."

**When will you be back?** Paige signed.

"I'm not sure," Gold answered. "But I should certainly be back by the time you leave for the day."

Paige frowned. She wasn't sure if he was just making a joke, or making fun of her for asking. She knew it was none of her business, but what was she to tell any customers that might come in?

"If anyone insists that they have something important to discuss with me, send me text message and I'll tell you exactly what to do." He didn't expect anyone to come into the shop, not this afternoon, but that didn't necessarily mean it wouldn't happen. "Don't worry, dove, you'll be fine on your own." His smirk made it obvious that he was mocking her this time, but he was out the door before Paige could respond. She frowned at the door. As if she was worried about being here on her own!

Since she knew she'd be by herself, Paige was tempted to lie down and stretch out her aching back, but what if she fell asleep and someone came in? Besides, she had a strange feeling that Gold would somehow know if she slacked off too much while he was gone. So she grabbed the glass cleaner and started cleaning the display cases. She knew she was cleaning a lot slower than normal, but that was because she had picked a case she hadn't really gotten to investigate yet. She peered into it, staring at all the things locked inside. She wondered why he would lock up a large metal hook. It looked like it was made to screw into something, but nothing else in the case matched it. Strange. She didn't know if she would ever find out who that hook had belonged to in the world that was.

When the bell jingled, Paige straightened guiltily. That hadn't taken long! But it wasn't Gold who had come through the door, it was Ashley, with her baby girl strapped into a carrier over her stomach. Smiling, Paige grabbed the notepad off the counter.

Paige wrote down a cheerful greeting, adding that she had not expected to see Ashley in the shop.

"I'm not here to chat," Ashley said, her face serious and perhaps a little angry.

When Paige started to write out a question, Ashley put her hand over Paige's, pushing the pen down.

"I came to tell you to stay away from Ruby." At Paige's surprised expression, Ashley said, "Do think I don't know what you're doing? You're spying on her – for Gold! That man has caused her enough trouble. Do you have any idea how much interest he charged Granny when he loaned her money to take care of her medical bills? The poor woman had just had a heart attack, and he loan-sharked her! Ruby was scared to death that Granny would lose the business and they'd end up on the street." Ashley looked down, lost in memory for a moment. Ruby had been there for her through everything, and now she had to do what she could for her friend. "Was it Gold's idea to make Ruby go back to the club?"

When Ashley let go of Paige's hand, she wrote a different question than she had originally started.

"Well, why _wouldn't_ it be Gold's idea for her to go back to the club? After I stopped going, Ruby started having a hard time with some of the guys there. Always trying to 'take her home,' pretending to be nice about it when all they really wanted was to get into her pants. I know she dresses and acts kind of – suggestively, but that doesn't mean she does anything like that." Ashley felt bad saying that about her friend, but it was true. Ruby was very flirty, and liked to show off her body. That often made people assume Ruby was a slut, but Ashley knew better. "When she was by herself, she said it was harder to say no when they offered her a ride home. That's why she stopped going – until _you _came along, anyway. So what, Gold wants Ruby to get knocked up now so he can take _her_ baby? What about yours? What, are you just going to hand it over in the hospital? Does your boyfriend know? And what does Gold _want_ a baby for, anyway?"

Paige wrote for rather a long moment. Reading it made Ashley's mouth tighten in anger.

"You know what, you're right, I can't make Ruby stop doing anything. But I want you to know, if she starts having problems with Gold, I know who's responsible."

Paige had started writing again as soon as Ashley had finished reading.

"I don't believe you," Ashley said, glaring. "If anything happens to Ruby, I swear I will make you pay for it." She turned on her heel and strode out of the shop, leaving Paige staring after her, shocked by what had just happened.

Even though she knew Mr. Gold didn't like her to use her cell phone while she was at work, Paige went into his office and took it out of her purse. She told herself that she should keep it in her pocket anyway, just in case Gold texted her or something. But the first thing she did was text Ruby.

[You're not mad at me, are you?] she sent to Ruby.

It was only moments before Ruby replied. [No, why would i be mad?]

[Ashley was just here, she said i need to stop hanging out with you…]

[Why would she say that, paige? I don't understand…]

Paige thought for a moment before replying. [I don't really understand either. She said i was spying on you so mr gold can con you, or something. I don't know!]

The minutes stretched by. When Paige's phone finally went off again, Ruby had texted, [I didn't want to tell you this, but ash told me that she didn't really like you – because you're so close to gold. I told her how he helped you, but she didn't want to hear it I'm really sorry this happened… I should have told you what she said, but i didn't want to upset you.]

[It's not your fault, ru] Paige texted back. [But… you don't think i'm only friends with you because mr gold told me to, do you?]

[No! I would never think that. I know you better than ash does, and after what happened with her baby, she has good reason to hate him. Please don't be mad at her!]

After considering it for a moment, Paige texted, [Well, i can't say i appreciated her coming in here like that and talking to me the way she did… But i can understand why she hates mr gold. And she's just trying to protect her friend, even though there's nothing to protect you from in this case… I can't say that i like ashley very much right now, but i guess i can understand…]

[Good! Maybe someday she'll come around. I'd really like you two to be friends, someday, at least…]

[Don't hold your breath…] After sending that text, Paige immediately sent another. [Sorry, i didn't mean that to sound so rude. But you didn't see how angry she was…]

[It's okay. So, um, are we still on for the club next week?]

Paige gave that near-silent laugh. [That was her main point – she thinks i'm making you go! I'm still up for it, but ashley will hate it, so it's okay if you don't want to go after all…]

Ruby's reply was [Don't worry, i'll talk to her. As of right now, we're totally on for next week, okay?]

[Okay!] Paige stared at her phone for a moment. She felt stunned. Ashley had been a little stiff when they went out for Chinese, but Paige had just assumed that the girl felt awkward being around someone who couldn't speak. Some people didn't seem to know how to react to Paige, how to talk to someone who was mute. Usually, she could tell how people really felt deep down, and she couldn't understand how Ashley had blindsided her.

* * *

><p>Muffet had heard the word in several villages: a man who had left no name wanted to meet with her. As she approached the ruins of her village, she wondered yet again if it would be the man she knew only as Teacher.<p>

There was no one in sight, but two horses stood hobbled on what had once been the village green, grazing contentedly. Teacher preferred his own legs to any beast, and besides, he would have no need for two horses even if he chose to ride. So who was she to meet?

Not one house stood whole. Most had burned down shortly after the attack, or had collapsed in the intervening two and a half years. Only one house still held any remaining timbers to the sky. Muffet tried not to look at that one house, but she couldn't help herself. It had been the house where Locke had lived with his parents. The corner that still stood was tall enough that a portion of the second floor still stuck out over the open air. Locke's bedroom had been in that corner. In fact, the little corner table still stood on that piece of floor, but though she had tried, Muffet had found no trace of the vase that had once stood on that table. When they had begun courting, Locke had taken to keeping that vase filled with stargazer lilies, Muffet's favorite flower. Even in the winter, he kept a bouquet of dried lilies in the vase.

If Muffet could have found that vase, she would have put it in her shrine, but even when she found other blown-glass vases, none of them could compare to her memories. Locke had once told her that the vase, along with several other pieces of fine blown glassware, had been part of his great-grandmother's dowry.

Muffet blinked and rubbed roughly at her eyes. She should not be crying; what if she got attacked? Teacher would be very disappointed if Muffet got herself killed because she had let tears blind her.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Muffet entered the shrine she had built. She was not surprised to find someone already inside. "You wanted to meet with me?" she asked, her voice wary as she gripped her axe, ready for anything.

When the man turned, Muffet gaped and went to one knee. "Prince Andrew! I wasn't expecting _you_, Your Highness!"

"Please," Andrew said, motioning her to stand. "I would rather you call me Andrew, at least when we are private." He glanced at the axe in Muffet's hand. "I see you found a way to avenge your village."

Looking at the axe herself, Muffet nodded. "Yes," she said, her voice serious. "I have."

"And I see that you've also found a way to honor your people," Andrew added, gesturing at the things placed carefully around the shrine.

"I wasn't looking for one," Muffet said, her voice thick with emotion. "The idea found me."

Andrew's face registered only approval. "I'm glad you did. I feared you might become a monster yourself if there were only vengeance in your heart."

Muffet turned her face to him, surprised. She hadn't even thought of that herself. But looking back, she realized that she had been well on her way to becoming heartless when she found those two dolls.

"Why was this place called Thornwood," Andrew asked, changing the subject.

"The wood over there," Muffet said, pointing in the direction of the wood that she had become lost in on the night of the attack. "Originally, the founders of the village meant to cut it all down, to increase our sight distance to the edge of the forest. It doesn't always show very well on maps, but that wood _is_ slightly separated from the actual Wolfswood itself. The founders wanted more warning if Wolfs should attack. But there were so many thorny patches in the wood that it was very slow going. The men were neglecting their farms, and the soil here is quite good for farming. So eventually it was decided that the thorns themselves would be as much a barrier to the Wolfs as they were to the villagers, and for the entire history of the village, all the raids _were_ small ones. Until the pack grew too large." Muffet looked sad for a moment, then continued. "Because of the abundance of thorns, the founders named that wood the Thornwood, and this village became known by the same name."

"I never knew that," Andrew said softly. "You know, they have begun to call you 'the People's Champion.' You are a hero, Muffet."

"I care not," Muffet replied. "I only care about killing Wolfs."

"I know," the prince answered. "But you are doing me the greatest service, you know."

"How so?" she asked.

Andrew held her eye for a moment. She could see that he was quite serious about what he was preparing to say. "All of these little outlying villages? I have to focus my men at the larger towns, further from the Wolfswood. It has gone very badly for these small villages way out here, practically on the doorstep of Wolf territory. Until you came along. I want to hire your services, Muffet."

She was shocked. She hadn't expected anything like this. "I thought women could not join your army," she said slowly.

"They cannot. But I _am_ permitted to hire mercenaries in times of great need, and there is nothing that specifies the gender of a mercenary." Andrew knew that this was a technicality, but if his brother had any problem with it, Andrew would take all the blame.

Muffet licked her lips. "Your offer is kind, but I prefer to work alone. I must turn it down."

"You have not even heard my offer, Muffet," Andrew said, smiling. "All I ask is that you continue to do exactly as you have been doing, with only one change to your normal routine. I ask that you bring the head of the pack leader to my main encampment, where you will receive a bounty. The bounty does change depending on the size of the pack, provided that you bring proof of their size. All you need to prove the size is the ears of every pack member. The ears will be counted in pairs, of course."

"That is tempting, but all that travel will take precious time that could be spent tracking and killing more Wolfs," Muffet said.

"I understand that, and there is no way around that, but from what I see here," Andrew gestured around the shrine, "you still need many items to commemorate the people you lost. That will require money, and as I understand it, you tend to refuse payment for your services."

"That is true," Muffet said, "unless I find something in the village that I need for my shrine."

"There may be things you wish to have that you will not find in provincial villages." Andrew did not say the word provincial as if it were a negative thing. "You can ask at my encampment, and anything you ask for will be sought out along our supply routes, to be rendered to you instead of the equivalent amount of gold. Should your bounty be greater than the worth of the object, that extra will be made up with gold, and should the item be worth more than your bounty, than you will be asked not to collect until you have racked up a high enough bounty to cover the cost of the item. Your records will be meticulously kept, and copies provided to you in such a circumstance."

Muffet turned away from him, thinking hard. Andrew was right, some of the things she wanted would be hard to come by out here along the edge of the forest. For one thing, she wanted wedding rings for Hiram and Betsy. Their wedding was to have been a few days after the attack, and though they had been unable to afford real rings, it was their dream to one day save up enough money to buy themselves gold rings. A red ribbon to twine between the rings would be easy enough, but jewelry made of any metal was precious out here. Even if Muffet found something she liked out here, it would have so much family history that she would not be able to bring herself to ask for it in return for saving the village from Wolfs. "I accept, Andrew. I will take your bounty."

"Excellent!" cried Andrew. "I have brought you a horse, that we may travel to my main encampment now. That way, you will know where it is, and I can introduce you to the men in charge of handing out the bounty." As if it were an afterthought, he added, "And if you like, you may keep the horse as an initial payment for your services. 'Twould certainly make your journeying faster, and you wouldn't have to _carry_ the pack leaders' heads all the way there."

"I don't know about that," Muffet said, eyeing the horses suspiciously as she stepped out of the shrine.

"Do not decide yet," Andrew said, smiling to himself. She surely was a stubborn young woman. "Wait until you see where you must collect your bounty."

* * *

><p>Gold wasn't sure why he was standing on Paige's porch. It wasn't until after he rang the bell that it occurred to him that Mike might be spending the evening with Paige; his side of the house was dark. Just as he turned to walk away, the door opened.<p>

Paige stood silhouetted in the light from her living room.

"I'm sorry," Gold said, "I'll leave you and your young man alone."

He felt Paige's hand on his arm. She drew him inside so he could see her hands as she signed, **Mike's not over here. His place is dark because tomorrow is his early day at work. He goes to bed pretty early when has to be at work at 4am.**

Mr. Gold opened his mouth to say something, and all that came out was a sort of helpless grunt.

**What's wrong? **signed Paige.

"It's nothing, I should go," Gold said roughly, turning.

But once again, Paige put a hand on his arm. She led him over to the couch and sat down with him. She could tell that he was very upset, nearly distraught. She thought he might be a little angry too, but the anger wasn't very strong, as if it had faded a good deal, leaving only this helpless grief. She couldn't imagine what could hurt a man like Gold, but her heart went out to him. Since he didn't want to talk about it anyway, she wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head to her bosom.

At first he just sat there, stiff in her arms, but when Paige began to stroke his hair, he started to cry, nearly as silently as Paige herself usually did. Paige felt him suddenly cling to her, and wished she knew what could have upset him so. But all that really mattered was that he had come to her, and she would do everything in her power to comfort him. She had never known that she would find it this painful to see him so broken up about something. Her chest tight, she wondered why she felt that way.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Return."

I can't be 100% sure that Gold was in August's room during the party, but I noticed that, as he's picking the lock, the lights are on in the hallway, suggesting that it's night time, and as I mentioned, it _is_ the perfect opportunity for it. **I do not know ABC's intentions or their official timeline on that, but for the purposes of my story, Gold left the party early to take advantage of the fact that not only August, but also Ruby and Granny, were away from the bed-and-breakfast.**

Please let me know what you thought!

I also have a question for you - I intend, of course, to continue this story into Season Two - my concern is for how I should post. Would you rather see the chapters continue to count up in this story, or have a new story started called "To Carry On: Season Two" (and edit this story's title to "To Carry On: Season One")? If I were to start a new story, I would post an epilogue in this story at the same time as chapter one of the new story, along with a reminder that a new story was starting. Or, as I mentioned earlier, I can just continue to rack up chapters here in this story. So I'd really appreciate your feedback on this, thanks!


	19. S1 Ch19 - Farther Away

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters, only the ones I have created.

I had originally hoped to get all the chapters for season one finished before season two started, but alas, it was not to be... oh, well.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Andrew wasn't quite sure how he had gotten separated from everyone else, but he <em>had<em> been lost in thought. His feelings were mixed; part of him couldn't wait to see Eliza again, but part of him was sad to be leaving his home, his family. He was also shocked and saddened by what had happened after Sir Ryan had left Tristan's castle.

The news from Eliza's kingdom was terrible; her brothers had been turned into swans, and Sir Ryan had been killed while crossing the Betrayer's kingdom with the signed betrothal agreement. Andrew had offered an escort of his own soldiers, but Ryan had turned it down, saying that he couldn't take men that Andrew could ill afford to spare. It wasn't quite true; now that the Wolfs had been driven back into the deeper parts of the forest, the Wolfswood border didn't need nearly as many men. It was true that many of the surplus soldiers had been placed on reserve and sent home, but shortly after he proposed to Eliza, Andrew had begun calling up the reserves. By the time Ryan had arrived to collect the signed agreement and take it to King Owen, nearly a quarter of the reserves had made their way into the camps Andrew had had set up for them. The campaign to conquer the Betrayer's kingdom was to begin soon, although Andrew suspected that the recent tragedies in the Blueberry kingdom would delay those plans. But the point was that Andrew would have easily been able send a dozen or so off on escort duty, and he felt some measure of guilt for not trying harder to convince the aging knight to accept the extra men.

Now, Andrew was out for one last boar-hunt with his brother. It was rather early in the season, but Tristan had spoken of fond memories of boar hunts from their childhood. Andrew wasn't sure why Tristan felt such nostalgia for them. The hunts had certainly been exciting when they were young, but back then the boys had never been allowed near the rampaging boar, and had seldom seen the slain beast before their father and the knights and lords with him had begun the messy process of what was called the undoing. The boar's entrails and any other undesirable parts were cut out and mixed with bread, to be cooked over a fire and given to the hounds as their reward. Then the gutted boar would have its legs tied together so it could be strung up on a long pole, which would be carried by pairs of hunters in turn back to the castle. Even their father had taken a turn at carrying the boar.

As he grew old enough to be allowed to hunt with the men, Tristan had decided that he did not much care for boar-hunting. Andrew, being more like his father than Tristan would ever be, had taken to boar-hunting like a duck to water, as his father had proudly remarked. Thinking of his father, Andrew felt a few tears sting his eyes. He had known even then that his father, although disappointed that Tristan hadn't shared many of his own interests, had many other reasons to be proud of Tristan. Their father had never shown any favoritism, unlike their mother.

Andrew could hear the occasional calls of the horn, moving away from him to the northwest. He steadied his boar spear against his stirrup; normally, they hunted a boar on foot, but since it was so early in the season, there had been no real snowfall, only a few flurries here and there. Perhaps because it was so early in the season, they had to trek further into the forest than usual, so perhaps it was for the best that they were able to ride their horses. It had been decided that the hounds would seek out a boar's lair, and the men would leave the horses at a safe distance with some of the knights for protection. Andrew smiled; he had caught his knights drawing straws to decide who must stay with the horses.

But before he could start toward the hunt, he heard a scream from nearly the opposite direction. It was followed immediately by another; in fact, they overlapped a bit. Both sounded like the screams of women. Turning his horse, Andrew galloped toward the screams.

* * *

><p>Paige was curled up against the arm of the couch in Dr. Hopper's office, writing in the notebook on her lap. Texting was all very well, but there was a limit to how many characters could be used in any one text message, so they had found that pen and paper were the easiest alternative without Mike's assistance.<p>

When she handed the notebook over, Dr. Hopper read what she had written. "Well, Paige, I think it's perfectly natural to feel that Mike is pulling away, but that may not be the case here. He's very concerned about his friend, who seems to be going through a very rough time."

Archie looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to say the next part, and when he did say it, his voice held a hint of that hesitation. "Also, you have to remember that you _are_ pregnant right now, and your hormones are kicking in. It's entirely possible that you're being a bit oversensitive about the whole situation." When he noticed Paige's sullen expression, he added, "But as I said, right now he's trying to help a friend, and he may not even realize that you're feeling a bit left out right now. Have you tried talking to him about it?"

Paige didn't even bother writing in her notebook; after a moment's hesitation, she shook her head no.

"May I ask why?"

Grimacing, Paige poised the pen over the paper. She thought about it for a minute, then started to write.

After reading it, Archie said, "That's a very human thing to feel, Paige. It's not stupid at all. We all have times when we're afraid of confronting someone, afraid of what we might lose. But is it worth all the pain you've been going through? The pain of _not_ knowing how he really feels about you and about where your relationship is going?"

Paige simply shrugged, not meeting Archie's eyes.

"Do you think the situation is better now than when you two had that fight a few months ago?" From what she had told him, Archie thought that it _was_ better, but he felt that it would be easier for Paige to accept that if she thought about it for herself, rather than hearing it from him.

For a long moment, Paige's eyes stared off into nothing, contemplating. Then, she looked at Dr. Hopper and nodded. Before he could say anything else, she started scribbling in her notebook again.

Archie nodded to himself as he read her latest note. "I'm sure he did say some terrible things. And I imagine you did, as well."

Not meeting his eyes, Paige nodded hesitantly.

"It's the most natural thing in the world to say hurtful things to those we love. Part of the reason for that, I believe, is that when we truly care for someone, we… let our guard down. We feel safe and comfortable, and it becomes easier for us to be ourselves around those we love." Archie looked serious and contemplative. "And then we kind of stop filtering ourselves, and say the first thing that comes to mind. And when we're angry, that's not always something nice."

Paige felt tears pricking her eyes. She couldn't stop hearing herself call Mike a coward. And she also kept hearing him call her a worthless slut.

"Have you discussed it at all? I mean, have you forgiven each other?"

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Paige thought about what to write. It took her a while to get what she wanted to say on paper.

"No, Paige," Archie said after reading it, "it doesn't make you a bad person. The fact that you're not angry with him while he's near you is a positive step. It means you're in the process of forgiving him. Still being angry about it when he's not around is normal. But if you can't hold onto that anger when you see him, that means you'll be able to give the relationship another chance." After a brief pause, he asked, "Do you know if he's forgiven you?"

This question seemed easier for Paige; she wrote only briefly.

"If he's making an effort to act naturally around you, I'd say there's a good chance that he's on the same page as you are. I think that after he helps his friend weather this crisis, things will be better. But if you keep feeling this way, you should really talk to him. Be honest about your feelings, tell him your fears. See how things go from there."

Paige wrote another note.

Archie gave a small, wry smile when he read it. "Honesty is one of the hardest things in the world, but it's worth it. It's true that we run the risk of getting hurt, but in the long run, you'll be glad you told the truth."

Paige looked worried, but Dr. Hopper attributed it to her fear that she would lose Mike. He had no way of knowing that she was suddenly feeling guilty for all the lies she had told since time had started again.

* * *

><p>Andrew's horse leaped a fallen tree, and on the other side of the clearing that had opened up, he saw two women scrambling not to fall out of a tree that was not quite large enough to hold both of them. A large boar was savaging the trunk of the tree as it tried to get at the two women, its small eyes enraged.<p>

But it must have heard his horse land in the clearing, for it turned to face him. Knowing he had only moments, Andrew turned his horse back toward the forest even as he leaped out of the saddle. "Yah!" he shouted as he slapped the horse's flank hard. Startled, the stallion ran off into the woods. The boar was already charging Andrew.

The prince crouched down on one knee, planting the butt of his boar-spear against the ground with his right hand. His left arm was stretched to its fullest, presenting the point of the spear toward the black creature bearing down on him. There was a line of stiff bristles standing upright all down its razor back, and those piggy eyes held Andrew's death. No man could face down a boar this way without wondering if this moment might be his last.

The moment his left arm registered the shock of impact, Andrew turned his face away. It was not fear; it was to prevent any blood getting in his eyes. The boar did not seem to notice it had run into the spear, and it kept coming. Andrew could feel a greater impact when the boar had run into the cross-guard. There were now eighteen inches of razor-sharp steel inside this angry creature, but still it surged forward. Pushing against the crossbar, the boar shoved the entire spear, and Andrew with it, across the floor of the clearing.

It was only now that Andrew realized his mistake. There was a reason that men went in large groups to hunt boar. It could take a very long time for the boar to tire of shoving him across the forest floor, and even longer for the creature to die from the steel that impaled it. Since Andrew was alone, there was no one to come along and finish the boar off. Enraged boars did not tire easily, and if his only hope was to outlast this creature, it was a very slim hope. Adrenaline would only last for so long, and when it passed, Andrew well knew that it would leave him exhausted.

But before he could worry overmuch about outlasting this boar, a new problem manifested. The tree trunk Andrew's horse had jumped was not far behind him, and the boar had pushed him straight up against it. As trees are rounded, this presented a great problem for Andrew. His right hand, and the butt of the spear with it, was shoved further and further under the curving edge of the tree. Pressed against the trunk, Andrew could no longer be shoved along with it. Ever more of the spear's end disappeared under the trunk, until Andrew had to let go or risk his hand or arm being broken. They were badly scraped and bruised as it was. The boar inched ever closer.

Swallowing, Andrew closed his eyes and offered up a prayer that someone would discover how he had died, so they could tell the woman who would find herself widowed before she was even a bride. His sole regret was that Eliza had already borne enough sorrow, and now he would only add to it.

* * *

><p>When Mike answered his doorbell, he was shocked to see Gold standing at his door. "What do <em>you<em> want?" he asked, his voice unfriendly.

Gold gave him a cold smirk. "I understand that you dislike me, Michael, but I felt this news should be delivered in person."

"What news?" Mike still sounded gruff.

"Young Mark's mother – well, Mrs. Edwards, the only mother he's ever known, has passed away." Gold's face held no expression. He could have been calmly discussing the weather with a complete stranger.

Mike, however, went pale. He knew Mark still thought of the woman as his mother, no matter what the blood tests might say. Without a word, Mike rushed over to his couch and shoved his feet back into the sneakers he had left there earlier and grabbed his coat. But he suddenly stopped and said, "But… Paige..." He glanced over at the wall between their two living rooms.

"Don't you worry about her," Gold said, his smirk returning. "I'll tell her the news, and since I'm already here, I may as well… spend the night." His smirk deepened when Mike turned to glare at him.

Fists trembling at his sides, Mike stalked over to stand in front of the older man. His voice was low and hard as he said, "Do not touch her. Do you understand me?"

"Well, I can hardly agree to that, young man," Gold said, enjoying Mike's helpless anger. They both knew that Mike had no power to stop what Gold and Paige were doing. "However, I _will_ make you a promise." The glint in Gold's eye told Mike that he wasn't going to like this promise. "I give you my word that I will not be the first to touch her tonight. But if _she_ touches me, I will not refuse her."

Mike clenched his teeth, wishing that he dared to punch Gold right on his smirking mouth. "You disgust me," he hissed. "Get out of my house!"

A self-satisfied grin on his face, Gold sauntered out the door, making a show of casually crossing the porch to Paige's front door. Mike glared for a moment after he locked his own door behind him, but he decided that he didn't want to be there when Paige opened the door. What if she greeted her dirty old man with a kiss? Or an inappropriate touch? Mike didn't know if they really greeted one another that way, but he did _not_ want to see it if they did, so he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Mike slammed the door when he got into his new car. It was not brand new, but he'd bought it about a month and a half ago, after his insurance company had finally sent him a check for the car he had totaled in the accident. He'd bought this car at a garage owned by a man who shared his first name. Michael Tillman seemed like a good guy, and said he had meant to keep the car for himself, but had rather suddenly found himself a father. Mike hadn't asked about the circumstances, but thinking back on it now, he felt a pang of guilt. He had promised Paige that he would help her raise her baby, but since the fight, he still couldn't decide if he would keep his word. He had never actually thought of it that way, but he realized now that it was true. If he decided he was not willing to act as this child's father, he would be breaking his word to a good friend. Trying to think of anything else, Mike put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

* * *

><p>Gold smirked as he watched young Michael drive away. He had rung Paige's doorbell, but she hadn't answered yet. He knew she was home, he could see a light on in the living room and he could hear faint strains of music. He sent her a text message, and when almost five minutes passed without a reply, he dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked Paige's door.<p>

Once inside, he re-locked the door behind himself. Since the music still sounded faint, he was certain she was not on the main floor, but he went through to her kitchen just in case. As he passed the basement door, the music sounded a bit louder. He was surprised; he had expected her to be upstairs. He smirked as he considered what she might be doing in her basement.

As he opened the door quietly, Mr. Gold realized that he had never actually been in Paige's basement before. He eased the door shut behind him and made his careful way down the stairs, as quietly as possible. As he did, he became more aware of the music. It wasn't overly loud, but perhaps a bit louder than he would prefer.

"Some days I cry alone," crooned the female singer, "but I know I'm not the only one. I'm here and another day is go-oh-oh-on." As the woman vocalized on that last word, Gold reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner. The singer was still going, but Gold was no longer paying the music any mind. Paige had glanced up when she noticed movement, and her face had gone pale as she did a double-take.

He hid his smirk, instead raising an eyebrow as he took in the sight of Paige at a small, upright spinning wheel. Her bobbin was nearly full, and there was another full bobbin on the sturdy worktable nearby, waiting to be wound up into a skein.

"Well, dove," Gold said, sounding a little surprised. "It seems like you've been productive." He reached out and fingered the yarn Paige had been spinning. "Not very fine quality, of course, but I suppose plant fibers _are_ a bit more difficult to work with." His tone, however, suggested otherwise.

At his words, Paige's dismayed expression hardened. Her eyes were defiant, silently daring him to try and stop her.

Mr. Gold really didn't care that she was spinning, but it amused him to see that she thought he would. After all, she had risked much by agreeing to pay his price for the information that would save her brothers, and it was hardly surprising that she would put that information to good use. If she didn't, she would not only be risking her happily ever after with her true love, but her brothers' well-being, too.

Ignoring Paige's obvious challenge, Gold leaned against the edge of the worktable. "Can we turn this off? I have something rather important to tell you."

Paige, still eyeing him suspiciously, stood and pressed a button on the small stereo. She glanced at her phone and saw that she had a new message, but before she could check it, Gold said, "Unless there's more than one message, you needn't worry about that, dove. I rang your bell earlier and you didn't answer it, so I texted you. When that also brought no response, I… let myself in." He grinned wickedly as Paige blushed, realizing that she had brought this on herself. If she had heard her doorbell, or at least her phone, she could have kept him out of her basement and away from her spinning.

**Sorry,** she signed. **I should have been paying better attention.**

He thought about agreeing with her and implying that he might let this slip to the council, but decided not to. He intended to keep his word to young Michael, and he didn't want Paige to initiate any intimacies because she felt she was being pressured to do so. No, it would be much more fun to make her _want_ it. "No matter. I came to tell you about Mrs. Edwards. The woman young Mark considers to be his mother?" Paige nodded, so Gold continued. "She passed away earlier this evening. I wasn't sure if Michael knew about it yet, and I thought it better to tell him in person. He quite naturally wanted to rush straight over to see if he could do anything for his… friend," Gold said, emphasizing that last word because he knew what kind of relationship Paige feared was between Michael and Mark. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

After a moment, Gold added, "At any rate, dove, I told Michael I would stay with you tonight so he could do whatever was needed." His smirk deepened when Paige blushed. She looked both embarrassed and angry at the same time, clearly thinking of the things a grieving person might turn to for comfort. "Well," he went on, "I'm going to make my way back upstairs, if you'd care to join me."

**Oh, of course,** Paige signed, her hands trembling slightly from emotion. **Can I get you anything to drink? I still have some Earl Gray in the cupboard.**

"That would be lovely, dove." He motioned for Paige to lead the way. "After you."

He enjoyed watching the sway of Paige's hips as she climbed the steps. When she had reached the top, she waited for him, and Gold smirked again. He wasn't sure if she was simply being polite or if she wanted to watch him to make sure he didn't do anything to sabotage her spinning. She certainly looked nervous.

When Mr. Gold reached the top of the stairs, Paige reached back through the door to switch off the light, then closed the door. She signed to Mr. Gold that he should go into the living room and make himself at home before disappearing into the kitchen to make the tea. While he waited, Gold browsed her collection of movies.

* * *

><p>Paige came into the living room with a mug of tea for each of them. After setting both mugs on the coffee table, she went back for two rather large slices of cake.<p>

"You didn't put any icing on the cake?" After he asked, Gold noticed the chocolate chips that had been sprinkled somewhat liberally on top of the cake.

**No,** Paige signed, **according to the recipe book, this is called Chocolate Snack Cake, and you don't have to put any icing on it. I've actually been craving cake, but not icing, and this satisfies my cravings better than a regular cake.**

Gold tried a bite. "Actually, it's quite good, dove," he said once he had swallowed. He picked up the remote and turned the TV on. "By the way, I've taken the liberty of choosing a movie for us to watch."

Paige blinked. She had never really seen Mr. Gold as a person who would be interested in sitting down and watching a movie. He just seemed like the type to have more important things to do. She was even more thrown off when she noticed the empty case lying by the DVD player. **I didn't know you were a science fiction fan**, she signed.

"Oh, I like a little bit of everything, dove." He said it in a way that he knew would make her blush. "I haven't seen this one in a long time, though, and when I saw it on your shelf, I thought we could watch it this evening."

He didn't care for the storyline or for the futuristic technology and weapons. The main reason he had picked this movie was for the sex scene in it. The female lead climbed on top of the male lead while both were still clothed, and when she began pulling her shirt over her head, the male lead stopped her while her arms were trapped by her shirt, dominating her even while she seemed to be in the position of power. He knew that Paige would be painfully aware of him while she watched that scene. And perhaps she would even be interested in trying that a bit later…

* * *

><p>"Snow, your dagger," a woman's voice cried. Andrew opened his eyes, but all he could see was the furious beast bearing down on him. There was a brief glimpse of something red, and a moment later the boar shuddered. The red flashed again, and Andrew knew it wasn't his imagination. He tried to look up, and saw a dagger strike down again. Heedless of the shuddering boar, his eyes followed the dagger, the hand that held it, the arm. His eyes finally reached the face. It was one of the women he had seen earlier, the one in the red cloak. Her long dark hair flew as she raised her hand for another strike. Her face was a mask of fury every bit as mindless as the boar's rage. She raised her other hand to the dagger and, throwing her full weight into it, thrust the dagger into the boar's heart a third time. The boar staggered again and finally fell, still trying to kill him even as it died.<p>

Andrew screamed as he felt a tusk rake his thigh, just above the knee. The boar fell onto its side and gave one last, heaving breath. The eyes, still glaring, began to glaze over. Gasping for breath, Andrew looked back at the woman who had saved him. Her face did not hold any human expression. The fury was still there, but mingled now with victory as she growled down at the dead boar. She reminded him of the time he saw a triumphant Wolf taking down one of his men. He had killed that Wolf. Her expression made him wary. What _was_ she? Would she now consider him her own prey? Did he have the strength to fight her if necessary?

But the moment her face turned to his, the animalistic expression was gone. She looked worried, and maybe a little bit afraid. "Are you alright?" she asked him.

When Andrew tried to use his right arm to steady himself against the fallen tree so he could get up, he cried out.

"What's wrong?" asked the girl in the red cloak.

"My elbow," Andrew grated out between clenched teeth. "Dislocated." This wasn't his first dislocated elbow.

The other girl had joined them in time to hear him.

"What do we do?" she asked the red-cloaked girl. She had a softer, more rounded face. She looked kind, yet strong.

"Hold on," he said, answering before the first girl could answer. "I shall tell you, but first…" Andrew grimaced as he tried to stretch out his left hand to feel at his right wrist without letting the disjointed elbow bend. "I can't… it hurts. Check for… the heartbeat at my wrist."

The red-cloaked girl handed the still-bloody dagger back to the second girl and put her warm hand on his wrist. She shifted her fingers for a moment. "Yes," she said. "I can feel it. 'Tis steady, but fast."

"What matters is that… you can feel it," Andrew said. It seemed like every breath he took was shifting his injured elbow. "Now… press on the tips of my fingers. They should… turn white, but resume their natural color within a slow count… of three."

The girl did as he said, trying not to jostle his arm too much. He could see her mouth move as she silently counted to three, her eyes worried. "Yes, they did it."

"Good." Andrew felt a surge of relief. The last time he had dislocated an elbow, there had been a court physician nearby. The man had explained what he was doing and what to look for, seeming to believe that Andrew would try to soldier on through the pain if this ever happened when there was no physician to attend him. Even then, Andrew had not been that foolish, and had tried not to roll his eyes at the man, but now he was glad of the information. "That means the arteries are not damaged."

"Oh," the girl in the red cloak said softly, her eyes wide and her face a bit pale. She knew she would not have thought of that.

Andrew bent his wrist up as if he were saying stop, then spread his fingers out as wide as they could go. He then touched his thumb to his little finger. "And that I can do these things means that the major nerves are sound, as well." He wiggled all his fingers just to prove to himself that he could. "Could one of you touch my arm and hand? We need to see if there is any numbness."

This time, the second girl reached out to him before the first girl could. This softer-faced girl had cleaned the blood off the dagger and re-sheathed it at her waist. Her eyes flicked back and forth from his face to his arm as she ran her cool fingers across his skin. The red-cloaked girl watched, her face a mixture of worry and something else that Andrew couldn't place.

"Good, thank you. I felt it all." The two girls could hear the relief in his voice even over the pain. "Now, I need you to lever the elbow back into place."

"I don't know how," said the red-cloaked girl, at almost the same time that her friend said, "What do I do?"

Andrew looked up into the second girl's compassionate face. "You must grasp my arm just above the wrist with both hands and pull straight down." He turned to look at the girl in the red cloak. "And you will need to hold me down."

Just then, his horse wandered back into the clearing. "Ah, good," Andrew said. "I have a spare length of leather strap coiled in my saddlebag. Cut me off a piece about as long as your forearm." The first girl leaped up, her red cloak whirling. When she returned, he had her fold the strap in half. When she put the doubled leather strap in his left hand, he put it in his mouth so he could bite down on it. This was going to hurt quite a lot.

The girls got into position, with the red-cloaked girl laying across his chest and left arm, and holding down the upper part of his right arm. "On three," she said, looking first at her friend, then down at Andrew. They both nodded back to her. She turned her face back to her friend and took a deep breath. The kind-faced girl nodded to show she was ready, taking a steadying breath of her own. The girl holding him down said "One… Two –"

Almost before the first girl finished saying "two," the second girl pulled suddenly but smoothly on his arm. "Agggh!" cried Andrew, feeling like his teeth were nearly meeting through the strap. Despite the red-cloaked girl laying on him, he sat up halfway, tumbling her into his lap. Now his elbow ached like fury, but slight movements were no longer excruciating. Spitting out the leather strap, he snapped, "What happened to three?"

Both girls looked at him with pale but determined faces. It was the red-cloaked girl who answered, still sprawled across his legs. "I just thought it might be better if you weren't expecting it yet. So you could not tense your muscles."

Andrew held his injured arm across his stomach. "I need a sling. There's a spare shirt in my saddlebag." He looked around, but could see nothing that would work as a splint. It seemed a sling would have to do for now.

"How bad does it hurt?" asked the red-cloaked girl, while her friend rummaged for the shirt.

"Not as bad as it did before." Andrew's voice was gruff; this girl was pretty, and she was still sitting on his lap. "Can you – I mean, I'd like to get up now, if, ah, if you don't mind." He knew he was blushing, but he firmly fixed Eliza's image into his mind.

"Oh," the girl cried, her own cheeks coloring. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize –" She jumped up, then reached down to offer him a hand up. When he stood, he swallowed hard. She was so close in front of him that they were nearly touching. She took a step back, but only a small one. "Sorry," she said breathlessly, but her smile was flirtatious.

"I hate to interrupt here, but that arm should be in a sling," the kind-faced girl said, not even trying to hide her amusement. She had not only found the shirt, but had tied the end of each side to the upper part of each sleeve to give the shirt a sort of bend to support his elbow, and when the girl in the red cloak stepped back, Andrew half-leaned, half-sat on the fallen tree. The second girl settled the makeshift sling under his arm, then tied the sleeves of the shirt around his neck. She hissed as she noticed the bleeding slash on his leg.

Andrew looked down, surprised. He had forgotten that the boar's tusk had managed to cut him. "It does not look deep," he said. Shifting his weight experimentally, he added, "I think there is little damage to the muscles."

"Well, it still needs looking after," the soft-faced girl said, looking determined, as if she thought he would argue with her.

"By all means," he said, "Cut a strip from the bottom of my cloak for a bandage. Once I return home, I will see it properly cleaned and bound, but for now we only need worry about the bleeding."

The girl did as he had suggested, binding the wound snugly. "What's your name, stranger?" she asked.

"I am Andrew," he said. "And the two of you?"

"Everyone calls me Red," said the girl in the red cloak. "And this is Snow," she added, flinching when her friend whirled to glare at her. "I'm sorry, Snow!"

The girl called Snow turned back to Andrew, her face wary. "I hope you will remember the aid we've given and tell no one of my whereabouts," she said.

"Why should I tell anyone where you are?" asked Andrew. "I have no quarrel with you. With either of you," he added.

"You… haven't heard of me?" Snow seemed quite surprised. "But the queen – Regina – her wanted posters of me are everywhere."

"The only queen I know of is my brother's wife, Ayala," said Andrew, perplexed. "I have not heard of this… Regina."

Both girls gaped at him. Before they could figure out what to say, Andrew said in scolding tones, "Do you have any idea how close you are to Wolf territory? It's dangerous to be out here alone."

Red had a strange look on her face as she said, "We're… not exactly afraid of wolves."

"Not wolves, Red. Wolfs," Andrew said, emphasizing the proper pronunciation.

"What are Wolfs?" asked Snow.

"You do not know Wolfs?" It was Andrew's turn to be incredulous. "They are filthy abominations, half man, half wolf, and there are only two things that concern them: their next meal, and killing Ogres."

"What do you mean, abominations?" Red's voice seemed almost unfriendly for some reason.

"They were created by sorcery. They are larger than wolves, and can run on all fours like a wolf, but usually go on two legs like a man. They have nearly the cunning of man, but none of the compassion or kindness. Their faces are the worst. The combination of wolf and man is unsettling at best, and I know I had nightmares after the first time I faced Wolfs in battle. The intelligence, the animosity – 'tis not a pretty sight." Andrew was silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Red no longer looked affronted.

"They will hunt and kill anything for food, but they prefer humans when they can get us. There is something unstable in them, and they will snap for seemingly no reason. When they do, they seem to lose that human-like intelligence, and they are capable of mindless, unpredictable violence that can be quite extreme. They were created for the sole purpose of killing Ogres, but once the Ogres all fled this forest, they adapted. They will still kill any Ogres stupid enough to come back here," Andrew added, "but they seem content to live in this forest and plague my kingdom rather than hunt down the Ogres."

"You mean there is a kingdom out here?" Snow was shocked. She had not realized that there were civilized people out in this vast forest. Andrew's comment about his brother's wife being a queen had not really registered before.

"There are three, though they once were one," Andrew said. "Have you not heard of the Wolfsbane kingdom? Or the Blueberry kingdom?"

"I thought the Blueberry kingdom was across the sea," Snow said. She _had_ heard of it; her father had bought their blueberry brandy and wine, and especially their blueberry jam, whenever a trader offered it. But those traders had always come from the sea.

"They ship their goods downriver and along the coast to your kingdoms, where I suppose this Queen Regina reigns." Andrew blinked at Snow's glare. "I meant no offense," he said. "I can see that you are no villain, Snow, and I cannot imagine why anyone would wish you harm."

Snow did not elaborate, but stared into the distance, contemplative. Andrew did not bring up the subject again, instead saying, "I know where there is a cottage you can use. It once belonged to a sorcerer, but it has been cleansed by those whom I trust. They say it is safe to live there now, and while it is closer to current Wolf territory than I like, it's not as close as we are now. You would be safe there."

Red smiled coyly. "Would you visit us, Andrew, bring us food? Teach us to protect ourselves?"

Blinking warily, Andrew said, "I can bring you weapons and give you some instruction in their use, but before the month is out I must away to the Blueberry kingdom. My betrothed, the Princess Eliza, awaits my arrival."

Red's smile slipped. He was betrothed? And to a princess?

Snow said, "Yes, we will gladly accept your kind offer. The cottage, and the weapons, would be wonderful." She gave her friend a sympathetic glance that Red didn't seem to see.

Snow strapped the saddlebags behind Andrew's saddle, but he decided that it would be too difficult to mount now and then dismount to show them the cabin, only to mount again. The cottage was not terribly far, even with his leg injury, and once he had shown the girls around, he could get them to help him mount so he could find his brother's hunting party.

Before they left, Snow insisted that they should bring the boar along, so Andrew instructed the girls in the undoing. Since there were no hounds to reward, they left the entrails lying in the dirt. Andrew wondered if they could carry the carcass all the way to the cottage; it was a good four or five miles – not too far for walking, but a rather long distance for two girls to carry such a heavy burden. But he made no comment. It could not hurt to let them try; in fact, he admired their determination. Also, the meat would be a good start on their food supply if either of them meant to spend much time at the cottage.

* * *

><p>Paige only half-listened when Marco came into the shop to discuss the repair of an ornate cuckoo clock with Gold. She briefly thought about going through and saying hello to him, but now that she was sitting, she wasn't sure she wanted to get up. The bell over the shop's door rang again, anyway. It took Paige a moment to realize who Gold meant when he greeted a Mr. Booth, but then she remembered that writer Gold had been glaring at during Mary Margaret's welcome-home party.<p>

She was sitting down at Mr. Gold's work table. She had been cleaning in the shop when Gold brought the clock out and set it on the counter. He had told her to go in the back and sit down, saying that she looked tired. The look on his face had spoken volumes, and made Paige blush.

After the movie last night, Paige had been nearly breathless, expecting Gold to make his move. When he had simply announced that he might go to bed early, she had been shocked. He'd explained that he thought she might find it crass of him to expect sex from her when he had just given her such bad news. Even after she had pointed out that she had never met the woman, and barely knew Mark, he had seemed a bit reluctant. Paige had realized, though, that he wanted her to make the first move. She wasn't sure why, but she had gladly obliged.

Without specifically telling him what she wanted to try, she had set things up like that one scene in the movie. Like the female lead, she had been wearing a t-shirt. She knew that Gold seemed to enjoy having her arms trapped – she had especially noticed that when they were… consummating their second deal, in the apartment above the pawn shop. Even now, even though part of her knew better, she kept trying to pretend that the only reason she had emulated that scene was to please Mr. Gold. But the truth was that she had enjoyed it very much when he had reacted like the male lead in the movie.

When they had woken up, Mike's car was still gone, which Paige tried not to dwell on. Gold brought her breakfast in bed. It had been weird, but fun – she had never had breakfast in bed before. He had made French toast, and he must have found the blueberry jam that she had made over the summer, because he brought it upstairs, along with syrup, powdered sugar, and whipped cream. She didn't usually have such extravagant toppings on her French toast, but since Gold had brought them up, she tried it all, in several combinations.

Paige was jolted back to the present by the bell ringing again as someone left. It must have been Marco, because the man Gold was talking to was definitely not Marco. But from the sound of things, it seemed that Marco was this man's father, which seemed a bit strange. If this August, this man who had been the first stranger aside from Emma to come to Storybrooke, was actually from the world that was, how had _he_ gotten out? She had been told in both worlds that a savior was to be sent somewhere safe so that this Curse could someday be broken, but there had been nothing about a second person.

The conversation became ever more intriguing, as Gold said that August claimed to be at death's door, and then went on to reveal that August was supposed to help Emma believe. She was especially mystified by Gold's comment about August's nature making trust a big ask.

When August left, Gold came into the back room. He smirked when Paige tried not to look too curious. "Feeling a bit better, then, dove?" he asked, not deigning to acknowledge the silent question in her eyes.

* * *

><p>For the rest of the day, Paige had wondered about that conversation. But Gold had not enlightened her, even when she tried to drop subtle hints by asking about the clock Marco had taken.<p>

She tried to put it all out of her mind; she was going clubbing with Ruby tonight. She had just gotten home from work, so she had plenty of time. In fact, she hadn't even had dinner just yet. But she was looking forward to going out and doing something tonight.

So she was browsing through her closet looking for something to wear. The short denim skirt still fit, although it was just a bit snug, but the strappy heels she wanted to wear with it felt a little tight, and she didn't like the way her legs looked in the skirt and a pair of flats. So instead she put on what Ruby called her "skinny" jeans. They were getting a little tight, too. If she kept going to the club with Ruby for much longer, she was going to have to get some new pants.

Paige pulled out two tank tops, surveying them critically. One was a basic black tank with a pattern of small, silvery flowers down the center of the front. The other was the open-backed halter she had bought with the short denim skirt.

Her phone went off while she was still trying to decide. Laying both shirts on the bed, she smiled when she saw that the text was from Ruby. Ruby would know which shirt Paige should wear. Paige opened her phone to read the text.

[Hey, paige, i'm really, really sorry, but one of the waitresses went home sick. Granny needs me to cover for her, so i can't go tonight after all… I'm so sorry!]

Paige blinked back tears. Had Ashley said something to Ruby? Was Ruby pulling away, too? She knew she had to respond, so she texted back, [Oh, sure, that's fine. Maybe next week, then…]

Although it was childish, Paige had felt that she had gotten an edge on Mike by going out tonight. He had texted her during the day saying that, since Mark had just lost his mother, there would be no poker night tonight. But Mike had not made any mention of spending time with Paige. So she had felt just a little bit superior that she had plans when he didn't, as if she was trying to prove that she didn't have to depend solely on him and Mr. Gold for company. The fact that she went to the gym with Emma two or three times a week made it seem all the more childish, and now that her plans with Ruby had fallen through, Paige felt lost and disillusioned.

Still wearing her skinny jeans, Paige pulled the tank top over her head, leaving the halter on the bed. She slid her feet into a pair of flats and went downstairs, grabbing her jacket and heading out the door. She didn't know where she was going, she just didn't want to be cooped up in the house right now.

* * *

><p>As the court physician strapped the splint onto Andrew's arm, Tristan gave a wry laugh. "Even with trained hounds, we could not find a boar. And yet you wander off, lost in thought, and practically bump into an exceptional specimen almost by accident! Then, brother, fine hunter that you are, you let that boar stuff you under a tree and leave a girl to kill it for you!" Tristan laughed so hard that tears leaked out of his eyes.<p>

Andrew, a long-suffering look on his face, said, "Well, that does sum it up rather nicely, brother. But at least I actually found a boar." Tristan and his hunting party had not reached the castle until the day after the boar cornered Andrew. They had not been able to push the horses very fast, because it pained Andrew too much. The physician had left before Andrew rejoined the party; apparently, one of the knights' horses had stepped in a gopher hole and thrown its rider. The man would survive, but had broken his shoulder and nearly his neck, so the physician had deemed it best to take him back to the castle, where he could be made more comfortable. They had only just arrived at the castle, and Tristan and Andrew were both still wearing their hunting-clothes; they had come directly to Andrew's private chambers, summoning the royal physician to meet them there.

The physician, done with the splint, tied the sling around Andrew's neck and started to unwind the makeshift bandage from his thigh, murmuring that the wound would need stitches. He had Andrew remove the torn leather trousers, giving the prince a sheet to wrap around his waist for modesty's sake. The cleansing solution the man poured into the wound stung, making Andrew grimace.

Tristan, his mirth subsiding slowly, said, "That is true. But then you let a pair of girls carry it off with them. My brother, the conquering hero!" His laughter exploded again. When the laughter passed, at least for the moment, Tristan added, "It does seem, though, that you _have_ conquered another heart, Andrew."

Just then, Ayala came into the room, carrying Nigel II. As soon as he saw his father, the two-year-old squirmed, saying "Down! Down!" Once his feet hit the floor, he ran into his father's arms. He babbled excitedly in his own private language. Meanwhile, Andrew winced slightly as the needle bit into his flesh.

Tristan replied to his son, saying, "I missed you so much, Nigel! Were you a good boy while I was gone, or did you give your mother trouble?"

Ayala's wry expression made it clear, but Nigel crowed, "Trouble!" Tristan wasn't sure if the boy knew what he was saying, or if he was simply mimicking what Tristan had said.

"At least he is honest," Ayala teased. "But what is this I hear of Andrew conquering hearts?" She glanced over at Andrew, who was gritting his teeth as the physician finished the last stitch.

Before Andrew could try to answer, Tristan said, "Oh, he has a new romance, my love. A dark-haired girl wearing a red cloak and hood."

"I cannot help her feelings for me, brother," Andrew said, sounding as if he had said it before. He knew Tristan was only harping on this because it could be his last chance to tease his younger brother for possibly quite some time. But it was still getting old. "All I did was hold the boar at bay so she could kill it."

"And then asked her to lie on top of you, and when that wasn't enough, you tumbled her straight into your lap, brother." Tristan laughed again, the more so when he saw Ayala's raised eyebrow.

By this time, the physician had salved and bandaged Andrew's thigh properly. After the man murmured a few more cautionary words to the prince, he gathered his medical supplies and left.

"Perhaps later, when my brother has taken his tomfoolery elsewhere, I can tell you what truly happened," Andrew said to Ayala, only partly teasing. "However," he added, addressing his brother, "I did promise them weapons."

"Andrew, you are my general, at least until you must leave me for your new home," Tristan said, serious now. "As such, all the weapons in my realm are yours to do with as you deem necessary. Even if that includes giving them away to two strange women from a faraway kingdom." He smiled slightly to show his brother that he was only jesting. His face more serious, he added, "I would not have their deaths on my conscience, not if I could have prevented it by simply letting them have a few weapons. 'Tis not as if you will give them so many weapons that they could do any harm to the kingdom. And if they should happen to kill a Wolf or two, so much the better." That last held a trace of bitterness.

"Tristan," Ayala said sharply.

Looking sheepish, the king replied, "I am sorry, my love. But you know how I feel about Wolfs. After what they have taken from me… I will leave them alone for now, but if they become too numerous once again, I will not let them terrorize the border like they did before."

"I am not asking you to let them do such a thing," Ayala said softly. "But it will take them many generations to grow so numerous as to become such a threat once more."

"Besides, brother," Andrew added, "think of what the Wolfs have given you."

Tristan turned a withering look on Andrew. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Realizing that he had truly angered his brother, Andrew held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I only meant, brother, that if not for the Wolf you were trying to hunt down, you would never have met your queen."

Tristan blinked. He had never thought of it that way before, but it was true. If he had not hunted down the Wolf that had killed his father, Ayala would never have found him lying there, so very close to death. He turned and looked at his wife. She had thought of it that way, he could tell. He wished she had told him so.

Andrew went to the corner where little Nigel was playing with a carved wooden horse. He spoke softly to the boy, who stood up and took his uncle's hand. Leaving Tristan and Ayala to have their moment, Andrew went looking for Nigel's nanny. It would not be easy for him to try to play with the boy now, when he had only one good arm. Besides, he meant to leave first thing in the morning with those weapons for Snow and Red.

* * *

><p>Paige huddled on the blue couch in the sheriff's office. Emma had found her wandering the streets, but avoiding any route that would take her near Granny's. She wished she had the courage to go in there and see Ruby face to face, to try to tell if she was lying.<p>

"So Ruby cancelled on clubbing tonight, and now you think she's pulling away?" Emma didn't sound judgmental, but Paige took it that way anyway.

**Well, it seems like an odd coincidence that the very first time we were supposed to go after Ashley came and told me off, Ruby suddenly can't go at the last minute, **Paige signed. **Is it so wrong that it makes me wonder?**

"I mean, I can see where you're coming from," Emma said, "but don't you think you might be jumping to conclusions? I mean, your hormones are all over the place right now."

**Good Lord, is everyone going to throw that into my face? I know pregnancy changes up your hormones and all, but Mike spends all his free time with Mark. When he does bother to come over for dinner, he barely stays long enough to finish eating. **Paige was close to tears. **Then Ashley comes in to the pawn shop while Mr. Gold is gone and tells me that I'm spying on Ruby for him, which is a load of bull, and tells me that I need to stop spending time with Ruby and stop 'dragging' Ruby to the club. And now suddenly Ruby supposedly can't go? Tell me you wouldn't feel at least a little bit suspicious if you were in my shoes, pregnant or not.**

Emma almost looked like she was trying not to laugh. "Ashley thinks you're… spying… on Ruby? For Gold?" She couldn't quite keep the incredulous note out of her voice.

**Apparently,** signed Paige.

Just as Emma opened her mouth, the phone on the desk rang. After a brief conversation where Emma mostly just listened, she hung up the phone and turned back to Paige. "Listen, I've got something I need to take care of. I think you need to just go home, get some dinner, and find something relaxing to take your mind off all this. Who knows, maybe things will be better tomorrow. And if they're not, you can deal with it then."

Paige nodded and signed, **Maybe you're right. Anyway, thanks for listening.**

* * *

><p>When she got home, Mike was standing outside her front door. "Oh, Paige! There you are! I was starting to get worried."<p>

Paige looked down, pretending she was concentrating on climbing the porch steps. But really, she didn't want Mike to see the sad, wistful look she knew was on her face. By the time she reached the porch, she had managed to smooth her expression. **I'm sorry, Mike. I just went for a little walk around town. Just, you know, needed to get out for a bit. I guess I should have texted you.**

"No, uh, that's fine, Paige," Mike said awkwardly. "You should be allowed to take a little walk if you want to." He cleared his throat and paused for a moment before continuing. "I know you'll be out with Ruby tonight, but I just thought I'd see what's for dinner."

**Well, actually, Ruby had to pull a double shift at the diner, one of the waitresses seems to be sick. So, since neither of us has plans tonight, you want to watch a movie, or play some video games? I just got a new baseball game I think you'd like. It's the MLB version, so it has your favorite team.**

"Oh, well, actually, I really need to do some laundry tonight," Mike said, sounding apologetic. Paige turned to unlock her door, hiding her face from him again. She could remember a time when they had played games or watched movies on a night like this, simply pausing while whoever needed to do their laundry went to switch the loads. But now it seemed that needing to do laundry was an excuse for Mike not to spend time with her.

"So," Mike said, hesitant. "Um, what about dinner?"

Paige turned back. **Well, the leftovers from last night's dinner? I took them in to the pawn shop today, but there was still some left after lunch, and it's really only enough for one. I don't really feel like cooking tonight, you know?**

"Oh," replied Mike. He was clearly taken aback; Paige had never turned him down before. "Well, yeah, that's cool. I mean, I can understand that."

They stood there for a long, awkward moment, both wanting to say more but not sure what to say.

**I guess I'll see you later, then. I should… go eat.** Paige gave a hesitant smile and opened her door.

"Um, yeah," Mike answered. "Later."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Emma," Ruby said brightly. Emma could see how tired she was. "Do you want anything with your hot chocolate?"<p>

"Am I that predictable?" Emma laughed.

"You _do_ like your hot chocolate," Ruby teased.

"Yeah. Just the hot chocolate, thanks." Emma wanted to say more, but Ruby had hustled off already. So when she brought out Emma's mug, Emma said, "So, what are you doing here? I thought you had plans with Paige?"

"Yeah," Ruby said, grimacing, "but I had to cover for someone. I feel bad about canceling at the last minute, you know?"

"Well, you're going to make it up to her, right?" Emma asked, sounding as if the answer were obvious. Despite what she had told Paige, Emma felt relieved when she realized that Ruby wasn't lying.

"I'll be working nights the rest of the week, though," Ruby said. Emma could tell that Ruby was genuinely upset about this.

"Not everything has to be a girls' night _out_, you know," Emma remarked, inhaling the scents of cinnamon, chocolate, and whipped cream before taking a sip. "You can always have a girls' night _in_. Or a day, really, if you'll be working evenings. Paige is off tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," Ruby said, sounding more positive than she had since Emma had arrived. "Yeah, that could work. Thanks, Emma!"

Ruby had already hurried off again before Emma said, "No problem." She smiled wryly to herself, but only for a moment. For some reason, talking to Paige earlier had made her feel even more desperate to get Henry away from Regina. She made up her mind to go and see Gold tomorrow morning. She couldn't put it off any longer.

* * *

><p>Andrew looked around warily as he approached the cottage where he had left the two girls. He told himself he was just being cautious, just making sure that no Wolfs or brigands had attacked the girls and were now lying in ambush, but deep down, he knew he was looking for Red. He didn't know how to handle her feelings for him, especially since he was a happily betrothed man. Girls had found him attractive before, and he had even dallied with a few of them, but now he had found true love. There was no point in wasting time on an infatuation.<p>

Aside from that, he was still unsure of what he had seen when she killed the boar. Red had an animalism to her that gave him a gut feeling of potential danger. There was more to Red than just a pretty face. Snow was also stronger and braver than she looked, but he didn't get that sense of danger from her.

But when he approached, only Snow came out of the cottage. "Well, I knew you said you would bring us weapons, but I did not expect them so soon. Red set some snares last night, and went out to check them. She could be back any time, now," she said, teasing him. But looking at his face, Snow added, "This princess you're betrothed to, she's your true love, isn't she?"

"She is," he said simply.

Snow looked sad. "I offer my congratulations."

Andrew started to say something to comfort her, but Red came around the side of the cottage. "Oh," she said, blushing a bit. "Andrew! I did not realize you would come back so quickly."

Trying to act as natural as possible, Andrew said, "I wanted to get these to you as soon as I could. They would do you little good if Wolfs had attacked before I brought the weapons."

There were two regular spears, and another boar spear – Andrew had left his boar spear with the girls when he left them a few days ago. He also had a bow and some arrows for each girl, though he warned them that he would likely not be able to bring them any more arrows. He had brought several metal tips for arrows, and a few for spears as well, telling the girls that he would show them how to make rudimentary shafts for new weapons in case they should need them.

"I could not spare any swords, though," Andrew said, apologetic. "We are preparing to begin a campaign in the Betrayer's kingdom, and we find we are woefully lacking in swords. It seems our reserve-men did not care for their swords as they should have." His voice was rueful; some of the men had even been foolish enough to use their swords for chopping firewood! He felt that he should have known it would be a mistake to let them keep their swords, but it had given them a sense of still belonging to the army, of still being needed to protect the kingdom. Still, that was rainwater swept out to sea; no changing the past.

"The… betrayer?" Red asked.

"It is something of a long story," Andrew replied, "but I'll not be able to teach you everything in a day. There will be time for a long story or two." He smiled at Red without thinking, and she smiled back, but sadly. She could see that he was truly in love with his princess.

* * *

><p>Paige was in her living room staring into the distance. The TV was off, and although she kept telling herself that she needed to remove the yarn from her two bobbins and make skeins, she could never quite make herself go get them from her basement.<p>

The doorbell rang, and Paige thought about pretending she wasn't home. But when it rang again, she decided she didn't want to keep hearing that noise until whoever it was gave up and went away. She was surprised when she opened the door to find Ruby standing there.

"Hey, Paige, I'm so sorry about last night," Ruby said. She held up a bag. "I brought some stuff for us to do a spa day, and we can order Chinese for lunch – my treat!"

Paige beckoned Ruby in, grabbing her phone off the coffee table. [You didn't have to do this, ru…] she texted.

"I know, but I wanted make up for bailing on you last night." Ruby had seen the look in Paige's eyes. She was sure Paige had suspected that she was trying to appease Ashley by at least seeming to distance herself from Paige, but she didn't bring up the subject. Sometimes it was better to just let things go. "And besides, I know I could use some pampering. How about you?"

Paige texted, [Yeah, some pampering sounds pretty good right now…] She smiled at Ruby, who began pulling out tubes of mud mask, skin scrubs, and lotions.

"Oh, and I brought a movie we can watch with lunch," Ruby added. "And after we eat, we can do a mani/pedi!" She held up a bottle of bright red nail polish and a bottle of clear. When Paige gave the nail polish a funny look and reached for her phone, Ruby added, "Don't worry, it's okay to use nail polish while you're pregnant. Ash and I did this a couple of times. As long as you avoid the three icky chemicals, it's fine, and this brand doesn't use them."

Paige smiled, but she was still unsure. She had never seen any need to paint her nails before, but she decided that she would gladly do it for Ruby's sake.

"I do have to go in later, for the same girl who left early yesterday, but since it's supposed to be my day off, Granny said I don't have to come in until five, for the dinner rush, so we've got most of the day!" Ruby smiled brightly, that smile that lit up a room. Paige loved seeing her friend smile like that.

* * *

><p>That evening, Paige tried to make a skein from one of her bobbins. But she kept losing track of which dowel she was supposed to be winding the yarn around. She was getting sick of undoing it all and starting again. Finally, she wound the yarn back up on the bobbin, frustrated. She would just have to try again another time.<p>

She couldn't figure out what it was that had her so scatterbrained. At first, she was prepared to blame it on her hormones, but then she started to realize what her mind kept wandering to. After a brief argument with herself, Paige went upstairs to change, then grabbed a coat she seldom wore and left the house.

* * *

><p>When Gold answered his door, he was a little surprised to see Paige. He smirked as he invited her in. She followed him into the kitchen, where he had left his bowl of ice cream. It was chocolate, and he could tell that it reminded Paige of that night before time started again, when he had brought her ice cream to comfort her when young Michael's mother was causing so much ruckus.<p>

Sliding the spoon slowly and suggestively out of his mouth, Gold watched Paige squirm. He knew why she was here, and he was not going to make this easy for her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this little visit, dove?" he asked.

Paige was wearing a coat he hadn't seen before, a long, black leather trench coat. She had a pair of red satiny pumps on her feet, and through the cut-outs in the toes, he could see that her toenails were painted red. A closer look at her hands showed that the tips of her fingernails were red, in what he believed was called a French tip manicure. He had never seen her wear nail polish before, and the red was quite provocative.

**I… I want – I mean, I was hoping… we could… you know.** It seemed that Paige was now getting flustered and embarrassed by what she wanted.

Smirking devilishly, Mr. Gold said, "So you've come to me tonight because you're… horny? Is that what you're trying to say, dove?"

Paige blushed, and after a long moment, she nodded.

"I want you to say it," he said, goading her.

She blushed even more, signing, **Actually, I… don't know the sign for that word.**

"You don't have to use that word," Gold chuckled. "Just tell me exactly what you're feeling right now."

Hesitantly, Paige signed, **I want you. All I can think about is feeling you inside me. I want sex, and I want it now. **Her hands had grown steadier as she signed that, and when she had finished, she took a deep breath and tugged on the front of the coat, unsnapping it. She pulled the coat to the sides, so that the black leather framed her body.

She was wearing a red bra and red panties with lace on them, and she also wore a matching garter belt, with red garters stretching down to the tops of her sheer pantyhose. Gold licked his lips and swallowed hard. He had never expected Paige to own something like this unless he bought it for her, and this set was certainly new to him. "Where – where did you get _that_, dove?" he asked appreciatively.

**Ruby talked me into it, when we were shopping one time.**

"Well," he said, unable to tear his eyes from Paige's body, "I must say, she has good taste." He stood and, reaching out with both hands, touched her shoulders and slid his hands under her coat and along her arms, slipping the coat off so that it lay in a stark leather half-circle around Paige's feet. Gesturing toward the archway leading out of the kitchen, he said, "After you, dove."

Paige led the way upstairs, hesitating near the top of the steps. Gold gave her a light smack on her behind, saying, "Something wrong?" He knew she was just nervous and embarrassed. It was the first time she had come to him for sex. Every other time, she had come for comfort, and the sex just kind of happened. True, that was because he'd made sure it would, but he had not expected her to overcome her reluctance so soon.

Without even glancing back at him, Paige started moving again. Gold smirked, enjoying the view.

When Paige reached the end of his bed, she turned to face Mr. Gold. She was trembling, but not all of it was from nervousness. She watched him almost hungrily, and when he stopped in front of her, she leaned in for a kiss. It started out chaste and innocent, but he soon felt Paige's tongue against his lips. He opened his mouth to her, enjoying the feel of her pressing herself against him as if she were trying to push her body through his.

When Paige finally drew back, breathing heavily, she began to undress Mr. Gold. Letting her do so, he stared at that pale, enticing line of cleavage, reaching out to caress her breasts through the lacey bra whenever her arms weren't in his way.

Once she had him naked, she drew her hands down his chest and lowered her face to lick his nipple. He gasped as she sucked on it, gently rolling his other nipple between her fingertips. After a few moments, she switched. Then she straightened up and put her hands on his arms, turning him, guiding him so that he stood with his back to the end of the bed. When she pushed him gently backward, he understood that she wanted him to sit on the end of the bed.

**Don't move,** she signed. **I'll be right back.** She wasn't gone long, and when she returned, she was carrying a hassock that he had been storing in his guest room, the very room where she had slept, back when she lived with him. She set the hassock on the floor against the end of the bed and signed, **Lie back, please. **Her face was both nervous and seductive, which Gold enjoyed greatly. He did as she asked, leaning back on his elbows so he could see what she was doing.

Paige straddled the hassock, but she must not have liked the height, because she got back up and grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed. She gave a wry smile when she noticed that Gold was propped up on his elbows and grabbed two extra pillows, settling them under his head and shoulders so he would be more comfortable. Gold was intrigued; what _did_ she have in mind?

Putting the first pillow on the hassock, Paige settled herself again. She seemed satisfied this time, and slid forward. Gold's legs were still off the edge of the bed, so this position pressed her impressive breasts against him. The sight of his length nestled in her cleavage, with that red, lacey bra framing the whole picture, left him breathless. Then she reached up with her hand, stroking him against her breasts and lowering her mouth to the tip of him. It was not long at all before he found himself fighting an orgasm.

He tried to hold back, to make it last, but suddenly it was all over. Paige sat up, and for a moment, he thought she would be upset. The only other time his orgasm had caught them both by surprise, she had not been pleased. But this time, she just got herself a tissue.

When she had wiped off her face, she sat on the end of the bed, next to him. "I think it will take a little while before I'm ready again, dove," he said, his voice shaking.

Paige just smirked wickedly, signing, **I thought maybe you'd like to spend that time returning the favor.**

Gold sat up, letting his eyes trail down her body. Then he realized something. "Next time you wear a garter belt, dove, remember that your panties should be put on _last_." Paige blushed as she realized that he wanted to see her in just the garters and stockings. Gold murmured, almost under his breath, "It'll be a shame to lose such lovely packaging."

Paige laid back on the bed and, nervous again, pulled the crotch of her panties aside. "Really?" Gold asked, almost incredulously. "You want it like this, dove? Isn't this a little too… tawdry for your tastes?"

**Please, Mr. Gold, I want this**, she signed.

He grinned wickedly. "Touch yourself for me, dove," he said. Paige looked up at him uncertainly, so he added, "I thought you wanted to be tawdry, dove. So go on. I want to watch."

Hesitantly at first, Paige started to stroke her sweet spot. As the sensations began to overwhelm her, she let go of her embarrassment and watched Gold's greedy face while he watched her fingers. After a while, though, she stopped.

"Why stop, dove?" he asked.

She blushed. **I can't – I haven't been able to… Not on my own.**

Smirking, Gold asked, "So you've tried, then?" Paige's embarrassment was answer enough. "Well, I was going to save this for later, but I think you need it now." He went to his dresser and opened up a drawer. When he came back, he had something rather suggestive-looking in his hand. At Paige's wary look, he explained, "This is a vibrator, dove. It's used for… pleasuring yourself." Paige still looked wary and embarrassed, but he could tell that she was also becoming intrigued.

"There may come a time when I won't be available for you to… sate your needs," he said, smirking. "And if you feel like you can't wait until I am available, this will be of service to you." He knew that she would think of him whenever she used it, especially after what he had in mind now.

**I… don't know how to use that,** Paige signed.

"Oh, it's easy dove," he said, but before he could continue, Paige's hands moved again.

**And what is that weird bit on the side for?**

"Ah, that? You see, when you slide the vibrator inside, just make sure this 'weird bit' is touching right here," he said, stroking her sweet spot gently with his finger. He showed her how to turn the vibrator on and change the speeds, then handed it to her. "Why don't you try it out now, dove?" he asked, licking his lips. This was going to be a very entertaining evening.

* * *

><p>Much later that night, Paige found herself unable to sleep, so she left a note for Gold and gathered her things. She didn't feel comfortable wearing the lingerie home, so she put on a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants from the armoire in her old room. As she passed Marco's workshop, she saw the writer in there with him. August looked a bit anxious, but happy, she thought.<p>

A few streets later, she saw Emma's yellow beetle pass by. She waved, but Emma must not have seen her. She wasn't sure, but she thought someone else might have been in the car. Wondering idly who might be riding around with Emma at this time of night, Paige made her way home.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Stranger."

My information on boar-hunting comes from T. H. White's _The Once and Future King_, from part one – "The Sword in the Stone." A Boxing Day Meet is described, during which Wart is present when the boar is finally brought down. (For those of you who may not have read it, my boar-hunting scenes are rather different from the scenes in the book; I simply used the information that T. H. White's reader is given to construct my own boar hunt.) Since Disney has made a movie of "The Sword in the Stone," I thought it appropriate to use this as my source. **I do not own any rights to T.H. White's novel, nor am I in any way affiliated with T.H. White, his estate, or the publisher of the novel.** Also, this was merely used as inspiration; at this point in time, there is no connection between any of my characters and any potential storylines (my own or ABC's) concerning Arthurian legend.

**I do not know ABC's intentions concerning the cottage where Snow stayed when she was trying to hide from her feelings for Charming. For the purposes of my story only, she and Red went so far into the forest that they nearly reached the Wolfsbane kingdom, not to mention Wolf territory.**

The song Paige is listening to as she spins is "Falling Again" by Lacuna Coil. **I do not own any rights to this song. I am not in any way affiliated with the artist or the studio that produced this song.**

Please review!

Also, thanks to those who responded to my question at the end of the last chapter, especially to Awesome Fat Kitty for giving me an idea. How would it be if I changed all of the current chapter titles to "Season 1: Chapter 1" et cetera? This way, everything would remain in one main story rather than having multiple stories for the same thing... And then after "Season One: Chapter 21" (which will be the last chapter for Season One!), should I keep counting up my chapters (Chapter 22), or start over, so to speak, with "Season 2: Chapter 1"? Please tell me what you think!


	20. S1 Ch20 - Will O' The Wisp

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's storylines, plots, or characters.

Just a heads-up: there is a sex scene in here that's a little kinkier than normal, and which may seem out of character for Paige, but I promise it will make sense once you've read it. I sincerely hope no one is offended by a little light bondage.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin sat at his spinning wheel. The bobbin was nearly full, the gold glinting in the candlelight. It was an hour or so after daybreak, but this room was dark, the heavy curtains cutting off all but a dim suggestion of the brightness outside. He let his mind wander as the soothing sounds and familiar motions washed over him like a balm. Last night he had nearly been in a screaming rage – or would have been, if he had let himself. He still could not be sure whether Aenor's spawn or Felix's family would best suit his purposes. All he had been able to discover was that both options would work, but both would also have their drawbacks. The only problem was that he currently could not see all of those drawbacks.<p>

The one thing that was certain, though, was that if he used the would-be king's family, the daughter who had been switched for a son would work better than Felix himself. There was another daughter now, but it seemed that circumstances had contrived that it should be the firstborn, for that second child would be of no use to him in escaping that accursed cell. Likewise, the sons Aenor would someday bear would not work, either. It had to be either Norah or the little blueberry princess. But which?

As he spun, it came to him that perhaps the problem was the girls' ages. Both were quite young, yet, and their personalities were still being built. Perhaps he should collect samples for a later comparison, to see which girl was better suited to his needs. It would require nothing more than a lock of hair from each girl, something that should cause him little trouble to gather.

But first, he decided to finish this bobbin. As the soft sounds eased his mind, he noticed a slight squeaking noise in addition to the normal sounds of the wheel. He would need to put some grease on all the moving parts before he started a new bobbin, especially on the treadle hinge. That seemed to be where the sound was coming from. It wouldn't do to let his spinning wheel fall into disrepair.

* * *

><p>Standing in Paige's living room, Mike couldn't help but stare. Paige was lounging on the sofa in what he could only describe as a fetish outfit. The bra and panties were black, with a little gold bow on the front of each. The bra lifted Paige's already-impressive breasts to new heights, while the panties had been pulled on over top of the garters attached to the black under-bust corset. The garters held up a pair of sheer black stockings that had a large gold bow on the back of each leg.<p>

But it was the boots that really made Mike think of it as a fetish outfit. They came up just over her ankles, and the slender heels were so high that, if she tried to stand, she would be up on her toes like a ballerina. Mike doubted that anyone but a trained dancer could stand up in those boots, let alone walk in them.

It was only after Mike had spent several moments eying Paige's body that he realized that she, in turn, was eying someone else, someone just outside of his view. So he turned to find Gold sitting on an armchair across from Paige. Gold was wearing a suit, as usual. The raw lust in the older man's eyes sickened Mike.

When Mike turned back toward Paige, she had sat up on the couch. As he stared, she managed to stand up in those ridiculous boots! His mouth fell open as she stalked toward Gold. He couldn't believe she could walk in those things! He wasn't sure if her strut was forced by the height of the heels or if she was being intentionally seductive, but it definitely looked a lot sexier than Mike would have expected.

When she reached Gold's chair, Paige posed in front of him for a moment, running her hands lightly down her body. Gold's eyes followed Paige's hands with an eager greed.

Holding onto the arms of the chair for balance, Paige placed her knees on either side of Gold's hips, kissing his mouth hungrily. Gold moaned against Paige's lips as she shifted her hips, rubbing the black, silky panties against his lap.

Gold's hands came to rest along the back of the under-bust corset. He traced the boning down to the bottom edges, where he let his fingertips trail delicately along the garters, tracing their paths under the silky panties and following them to the tops of the stockings. He brushed his hands across the gold bows before moving his hands back up Paige's legs, this time massaging her thighs as he worked his hands higher. Paige made a faint moaning sound as Gold's hands gripped the soft flesh under the black panties.

When Gold slid one hand between her legs, caressing her through the silky fabric, Paige moaned louder. She was still kissing Gold, so the sound was somewhat muffled. Gold must have hit a sensitive spot, because Paige suddenly arched her back, pulling her mouth away from Gold's and crying out his name. But it wasn't until Gold spoke that Mike even realized that something was very odd about all this.

"Now, now, Paige," Gold admonished, glancing at Mike with a superior smirk. "Not so loud unless you want young Michael to learn your secret." Gold's voice was very soft, but somehow Mike had no trouble hearing every word. Mike swallowed. Paige had regained the ability to speak? And had told no one but that disgusting old man? _What about me?_ thought Mike. _What about her feelings for me?_

Paige spoke again, also very softly, but as before, Mike easily heard. "I don't care, Mr. Gold. You know I can't help myself when you touch me like that."

Gold smirked at her words. "Well, Paige, I have something rather special planned for tonight." He smacked her behind, not overly hard, but not exactly gently, either. "Stand up, girl."

Paige obeyed immediately, standing so fast that she staggered in those ridiculous boots. Once Gold had gotten up, he led Paige to the center of the room, where a chain was suddenly dangling from the ceiling. Seeing the chain, with padded leather straps hanging from it, Paige licked her lips, but in anticipation rather than discomfort. Mike shuddered.

Gold turned Paige so she was facing Mike, but she never once looked at the young man she claimed to love. Standing behind her, Gold removed Paige's bra before lifting her arms. Mike tried not to stare at Paige's breasts as Gold buckled the padded leather manacles around her wrists.

Suddenly, Gold had something like a whip in his hand. Mike couldn't think of any other word for the thing, but where a normal whip had one long strand, this thing had several shorter strands sprouting from its handle. Gold ran those straps through one hand, making sure to do so where Paige could see what he was doing, but Gold's condescending smirk was aimed at Mike, who was utterly appalled. It wasn't so much Gold's grandstanding that horrified and disgusted Mike; it was Paige's obvious, eager anticipation. This was awful and degrading. Could Paige really enjoy this?

The sound of the strange whip against flesh startled Mike out of his thoughts. Paige cried out, but it wasn't a protest. Gold continued, and Mike flinched with each blow. After six or so blows, Gold turned Paige around so that Mike could see the red marks that covered her hips and upper thighs. Smirking at Mike, Gold gave Paige a few more lashes. Mike shuddered at the sight of those leather straps slapping against Paige's flesh.

Finally, Gold put that horrible thing down. He rubbed his hands over Paige's reddened skin as if to soothe it. Mike swallowed hard as Gold slipped Paige's panties off, bending down to help her stumble out of them.

Mike tried to shout that he'd had enough; that Paige was right and what she did with Gold was none of his business, but no sound came out. He couldn't even tell if his mouth was moving.

Without any noticeable transition, Paige was standing sideways so that Mike could see her in profile. Gold stood behind her, and had pulled her hips back, putting her off balance. Paige had grasped the chain above the manacles to help steady herself.

Still fully dressed, Gold unzipped his pants and thrust into Paige from behind. "You're so wet, Paige," he murmured, but from his expression, the comment was meant more to cause Mike discomfort than anything else.

Gold started a slow, sensuous rhythm, reaching one hand around Paige's hips to stimulate the sweet spot. Mike found it all very degrading, especially since Gold was, in essence, still fully clothed, while Paige's few remaining garments left all her most private parts exposed.

Paige began to beg Gold to go faster and harder, and Mike found himself thinking that he would never have wanted to see Paige treated like this. Mike wasn't sure if he spoke aloud, or if Gold somehow sensed that thought, but Gold raised an eyebrow at Mike as if to say, _Oh, really? Have you even tried to look away from this?_

And Mike realized that he had not. Looking away had never even occurred to him. This whole scene was like a train wreck – even though Mike was horrified, he had kept watching it unfold.

Shuddering, he finally managed to turn away. He discovered that he was sitting on a large couch, and Mark was sitting beside him. But Mark wasn't watching Gold demean Paige; instead, he was staring raptly at Mike. The sounds were still coming from the middle of the room, including Paige's begging, but Mark didn't even glance over when Paige's frantic pleas turned into wordless cries of pleasure.

Turning back, Mike saw that Gold was now doing exactly as Paige had been asking him to do. Mike looked away again as fast as he could, but the image seemed to have burned itself into his brain.

Mark was still watching Mike with a tender, almost hungry look that, normally, Mike would have given a lot to see on Mark's face. Before Mike could say anything, Mark slid over, leaning in as if for a kiss. Mike watched the approaching lips, uncertain for the first time. Was this _really_ what he wanted?

Mark paused, their faces almost touching, then leaned a hair closer, brushing his lips lightly against Mike's. But Mike couldn't ignore the moans and passionate cries from the center of the room, which almost seemed to get louder as Mark tried to kiss him. Mike pulled away, putting a little distance between himself and Mark, all the while trying not to look at Paige and Gold.

"Aw, come on," Mark said, pouting a little. "She doesn't need you. Stop acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend and do something for yourself for once."

"You're wrong," Mike said, "Paige doesn't love him, she loves me."

"If that were true," countered Mark, "it would be _you_ up there with her." Mark still didn't even glance at the pair in the middle of the room.

"No, it wouldn't," Mike retorted, a hint of anger in his voice. "I would never degrade her like that."

"But what if that's what she wants in a partner?" asked Mark, an earnest look on his face. "What if she likes it that way? Maybe that's why she's with a man she doesn't love. Maybe she realizes that you could never please her like that, so she fell into bed with someone who will. Maybe you're too good for her." Mark slid closer to Mike, laying a hand on Mike's knee. "But you could make _me_ happy, couldn't you, Mike? Please, just let go of the past and let me be your future!"

"No," Mike said, "I can't just leave her to _that_!" He pointed to Gold. They had just finished, and Gold was wiping himself off with a handkerchief, while Paige's legs had given out. She had collapsed as much as she could with her hands still chained above her head. After Gold had tucked everything away and zipped up his pants, he slowly lowered the chain, letting Paige finally sink into a heap on the floor before he knelt to unbuckle the restraints.

When she began to thank Gold for the awful, disgusting things he had done to her, and with Mark's voice in his ear, still trying to persuade him to forget Paige, Mike had finally had enough. "No!" he cried out –

* * *

><p>"No!" Mike cried, sitting bolt upright in his bed. He looked around wildly, wondering where everyone had gone. Suddenly, he realized that it had all been a terrible dream.<p>

Shuddering, he wondered what could have caused such a sickening dream. He sincerely hoped that Paige wasn't into that kind of thing, although it wouldn't surprise him if Gold enjoyed degrading women like that.

He absently rubbed at the scar above his knee, which he could feel through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. Why would he dream that Mark was trying to seduce him away from Paige? Why had he felt, when Mark was about to kiss him, that he had been betraying Paige somehow? Did that mean Mike actually did have feelings for her? Or was it all just a crazy dream? Mike put his head in his hands, feeling confused and overwhelmed.

* * *

><p>The last words Norah had heard, much earlier in the morning, were from her father, laughing and telling her not to wander too far. But she hardly thought the edge of the woods was too far. At eight years old, she had never been so far from the house by herself, but she could still see it from here, across the fields. Smoke was rising from the chimney even though it was a hot day in the late summertime; her mother was making bread.<p>

Harvest was fast approaching, and the crops were growing well. Norah sat down right under the very eaves of the forest, where it was cooler than the baking fields of her father's farm. She shouldn't go into the woods, of course; her parents had both impressed upon her that it would be nearly impossible to find her way out again. For one thing, she was too young to know how to find her way in the forest, and for another, she had never gone into this forest with her parents, so they had not been able to show her any of its paths.

She had been running up and down the narrow cart-ways between the sections of the fields, which her father called boundaries, for as long as she could remember. She had even gone right in among the wheat stalks. The first time, she had become lost, and it had taken what felt like hours for someone to come close enough to hear her crying. Her father had taught her a trick after that.

If you go in among the crops, he had said, you can always find your way out by following the furrows that the crops were planted in. You were sure to eventually come across one of the boundaries. Norah had been a bit afraid to venture into the fields again for a while, but her curiosity inevitably cured her of that fear.

But her father had emphasized that his trick for getting back out of the fields would not work in any forest. The trees were not planted in furrows, but grew wherever they liked, which made it harder to be sure you were going the right way.

Norah sat in her much-mended dress, picking at a hole along the seam where another band of fabric had been added to the hem to keep the dress from getting too short, but that had been some time ago, and Norah had grown even more. The dress barely reached her knees when she stood up, and she was absolutely forbidden to wear it into town. It was only for play, her mother insisted.

As the sun moved toward its highest point in the sky, Norah sat and daydreamed. She felt like she was supposed to do something great with her life, something big. She just didn't know what, yet. Maybe she would become the kingdom's first female doctor, and cure all kinds of diseases! She might even find a cure for the dreaded plague. Or perhaps she would become a lady knight and lead the soldiers into battle. In this particular daydream, all the other factions had heard of Lady Norah's prowess in battle, and not only were they afraid of losing to her, but all of their own fighting men were sneaking away to join Norah's army! She would unite the kingdom once and for all! This thought often led to another idea, one even grander. Perhaps her armies would be able to retake the kingdoms on either side, restoring what had been lost in Good King Rolph's day!

Something startled Norah out of her plots to engage the rulers of these other lands in single combat, which she would, of course, win. These foolish kings (or perhaps a queen; that Blueberry Kingdom was bit odd, Norah thought to herself, never realizing that only in that "odd" kingdom could she realize the dream of becoming a lady knight), these foolish rulers would each have bet their entire kingdom upon this single combat, since they would believe that a young girl like herself could not possibly be as experienced in combat as themselves. But she would not kill them; nay, she would show them mercy – unless they plotted against her.

She didn't know what it was that had jolted her out of her fantasy, but the sun was getting quite close to its peak. Sighing, Norah supposed she should be heading home for the midday meal. As she stood, she saw a tiny ball of bluish light glinting just inside the tree line. It moved, swooping from one spot to the next, always staying just inside the forest, tantalizing Norah.

Surely a few steps into the trees would do no harm, she thought. She would be able to look back and see the sun shining over her father's fields, so she could not exactly get lost, she thought to herself. She had no idea what this little light could be, and she badly wanted to find out.

Before she came close enough to see what it was, it swooped away again, coming to rest only a few feet away. Norah leaped after it, trying to catch it in her hands. If she made it stay still, she could examine it more closely. But it always managed to evade her small hands. In only a few swoops, turning around would no longer show Norah any glimpse of her father's fields, but turning back was the farthest thing from her mind, so Norah never even noticed that she was lost.

* * *

><p>Paige kicked off the black heels as she locked her door behind her. Today had proven that she shouldn't wear those heels again until her pregnancy was over. She flopped onto her couch, putting her feet up and wiggling her toes. She had told herself earlier that she should have worn her flats, but she had put on the heels regardless. Though it might be old-fashioned, she just didn't think that flats looked… formal enough for a funeral, and unlike at Graham's funeral, Paige had not thought to take anything else to change into for the wake.<p>

She still wasn't sure how Mike had persuaded her to go to Olivia Edwards' funeral. She had never met the woman, and did not like Mark, who still thought of the woman as his mother. Paige couldn't blame him for that; as she had once told Emma, biology isn't what counts in being a parent. But she still thought Mark was rude and annoying.

Mike had begged her, saying he wanted to be there for Mark, but he didn't want to go alone. She was so frustrated with herself. In the world that was, she had not been this easily influenced. But then again, in that world, she would have no reason to be jealous of anyone. If only there was a way to make Mike remember the truth!

When he had pulled into the drive, Paige had invited Mike in for a cup of hot tea, but he had refused, saying that he was going to change, then go for a walk. She wasn't sure if he was so subdued because of the funeral or if there was something else bothering him, but he had been preoccupied all day. She wished he would talk to her about it; she hated seeing him so upset. But she was afraid that if she brought it up, or tried to make him tell, she would just push him away, or start another fight.

Sighing, Paige got up to make herself some tea. Not the blueberry today, she thought. She decided she was more in the mood for Chai.

* * *

><p>Mike wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, he just walked. As he passed Granny's, he thought about stopping in to see Ruby, but without ever realizing that he had decided not to, he kept on walking.<p>

He stopped and gave a heavy sigh. Something made him look up, and he realized that he knew the house that was in front of him. He walked up to the door and rang the bell.

When Matilda opened the door, she seemed surprised. "Mike! I haven't seen you in ages," she exclaimed.

Mike looked sheepish. "I know. I haven't been a very good friend lately, have I?"

Matilda smiled. "It's okay. I know you were busy for a while helping that girl you taught sign language to. And then I heard about your mother."

"Yeah, that's been tough," Mike said.

"I'm so sorry you had to put her in a home," she said. "I know that has to be hard for you, and your brother, too. And then you had that accident, right?"

"Yeah, but I still feel like a bad friend." Mike felt almost uncomfortable. "Especially since the only reason I came here today is because I need someone to talk to."

Matilda gave a rueful grin. "Well, come inside, then. Here, I'll take your coat." As she hung his coat in her coat closet, she added, "Can I get you anything to drink? I've got Pepsi, iced tea, water…" She trailed off as she tried to remember if she still had any orange juice.

"Ooh, sweet iced tea, right?" Mike asked.

"Of course," answered Matilda. "Is there any other kind?" she joked, getting two glasses out of the cabinet and filling them both with tea. "Come on, Mike. Living room." Mike took his glass and followed her.

"So," Matilda said, curling up in an armchair while Mike settled himself on the couch. She wasn't sure why he suddenly grimaced when he realized he had sat on the couch, though. "What seems to be the problem, Mike?"

Mike gave a heavy sigh. "Well, there's this girl. Actually, the same girl I taught sign language to," he admitted. "I know she has feelings for me, but I'm not… sure… exactly, how I feel about her."

It was Matilda's turn to sigh. "Why does everyone come to _me_ for love advice?" she said, sounding both amused and somewhat exasperated. "I've never even been in a relationship, so what do I know about it?"

Mike gave her a half-smile. "You don't have to be in a relationship to know common sense. But sometimes when you _are_ in a…relationship, for lack of a better word, common sense can get a little muddy. Besides, I trust you. I know you'll tell me what you really think, not just what you think I want to hear."

Matilda grimaced. "Am I really that blunt?"

"In a good way, Mat," Mike reassured her.

"Alright," she answered, somewhat mollified, "tell away."

"So Paige says that she's in love with me, but I seem to be more interested in… well, let's just say, I'm not sure she's my type." Mike paused, looking thoughtful. He trusted Matilda; could he tell her the whole truth?

During Mike's pause, Matilda said, "Paige… is she by any chance a red-head? And does she work for Mr. Gold?"

"Yes," Mike said, a little surprised.

Matilda's voice was thoughtful as she said, "Yeah, I saw her once. Right after all that rain, and that big storm, I went into Gold's shop to give him my card. She was cleaning a mirror, I think." She also remembered Emma making a comment about something Paige had said, something along the lines of, being there for a child is what makes someone a parent.

"We had a big fight, the night of that storm. Paige and me, I mean." Mike looked sad. "I said some things I shouldn't have."

Resisting the urge to correct Mike's grammar, Matilda said softly, "Yeah we always say things we shouldn't when we're fighting with someone we care about." They both sat there for a long moment, deep in their own thoughts. Matilda gave herself a shake and asked, "So what did you two fight about?"

Mike sighed. He might as well tell her at least part of the truth. "I found out – well it seems that she's having sex with someone."

"Ah," Matilda replied. "Someone not you, huh? Who is it?"

He wasn't sure how to reply. He had made a promise, a promise that he knew would regret breaking if he did so, and not just because he was the kind of person who did not take his given word lightly. "Well, um…" he started. He tried again. "I don't know, exactly…" but he trailed off again, letting the silence grow as he searched for the words.

"Eh," Matilda grimaced, "she didn't even tell you? Or she did, and you don't want to say. Either way, that's fine. I don't need to know." The other man was unimportant right now. "But I thought you said you weren't even sure if Paige is your type?" Matilda made it a question.

"I'm not," Mike said, awkward for a different reason now. "See, Mat, I think… I think I might be… more into guys, if you get what I'm saying."

"Oh!" Matilda had not expected this. But before she could figure out how to respond, Mike spoke again.

"I mean, I'm not even really sure, yet. I've never been with anyone, guy or girl. So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm into Paige and didn't even know it." Mike couldn't help but recall how Paige had thrown that in his face when they fought. The trouble was, she had been right. How _could_ he really know for sure? "See, I had this crazy nightmare last night," he said, trying to explain. "She was having sex with – with the guy I told you about, and it was really… just… degrading. That's the only word I can think of for it."

"Has Paige ever given you any reason to think she's into that kind of thing?" Matilda wondered who this other man could possibly be. From the way Mike was acting, she was pretty sure he knew and wasn't telling. Technically, it wasn't really his secret to tell, but she was still very curious to know who Mike was so jealous of.

Mike thought for a moment. "Well, no, actually," he answered. "She told me that he's always been gentle with her, so I guess not. But it was just so awful, the things he did to her. And she _liked_ them!"

"Mike, it was only a dream," Matilda said softly. "Dreams are crazy-weird sometimes. Just because you dreamed that she liked it, doesn't mean that she does. But I have to say, it certainly seems like you're jealous of this other man."

Jealous. Mike felt as though that word had punched him in the gut. "You're right," he said, "I guess I am." It almost hurt to admit that. "There was also another guy in my dream, a guy I like – or, I guess, thought that I liked."

"Did anything happen between you and this guy in your dream?"

"Kind of," Mike said. "He tried to kiss me, but I felt like I would be betraying Paige if I did, so I pulled away."

Matilda was silent for a moment, letting Mike sink into his own thoughts. Then she asked, "Do you love her?"

Mike's head came up and he stared at Matilda like a deer in the headlights. "I don't know, Mat," he whispered. "I don't know."

"Why _is_ she having sex with someone else?" Matilda almost felt like she was prying, but Mike had come to her for advice. How could she give it if she didn't ask the hard questions?

"Because of me," Mike muttered sullenly. "She knows I'm not into girls, or thought I wasn't, and she loves me, but as far as she knew, she couldn't have me. And I guess things with Mis… the other guy, I guess it just kind of… happened one day, I'm not really sure." Mike sweated. He had almost said 'Mr. Gold,' and even though he was sure Matilda would keep it to herself, he was still afraid that Gold would find out that he had broken his word. For that matter, Mike would be so ashamed about it that one look at Mike's face might be all it would take for Gold to figure it out. Mike knew he was going to have to be very careful. "Paige did tell me that she was afraid I would choose my mother over her. Mom was getting out of hand, even going to Paige's house and banging on the door, accusing her of witchcraft, and of kidnapping the Mayor's son, and Paige was worried that I would decide to stop being her secondary guardian, and maybe even make her leave the duplex so I could take care of my mother."

"Did that ever even cross your mind?" Matilda asked.

"No!" Mike said loudly, but even he could hear the dishonesty in his voice. "Alright, I guess I thought of it, but not seriously. I want to be there for Paige. She's had so many bad things happen to her, but she can still smile and laugh, and cook for people, and do all the things she likes to do, and yeah, she gets down sometimes. I mean, don't we all, but she keeps going. She doesn't give up. I admire her strength." Mike blushed a little; it was a bit weird saying all this out loud, even if it was how he felt inside.

Matilda had one more hard question for Mike. "Do you think she would stop with the other guy if you decided to date her?"

Mike looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I think so, but…" He trailed off, remembering Gold's implication that they could work something out if Mike wanted to be with Paige. But had that been what Gold really meant, or was the old lecher just manipulating words in order to push Mike's buttons? Gold seemed to enjoy doing that sort of thing.

"Well," Matilda said when Mike didn't continue. "I can't tell you what to do, Mike, and I can't promise that this would be true love or anything crazy like that. There is no easy fix for this kind thing. I don't know if you're in love with her, but you're definitely jealous of what she has with this other man, so I think it's worth exploring. Just… think about it, okay? You don't have to do anything, or tell anyone, until you're ready." She gave a wry little laugh. "I know it sounds hokey and all, but if my mother were still alive, she'd say you have some soul-searching to do."

Mike gave a soft snort of amusement. "I can't tell you how much this means to me, Mat," he said. "I haven't told anyone else. Thanks for listening, and I'm sorry it took this to make me come and see you again."

Giving Mike a teasing smile, Matilda said, "Well, Mike, your penance is this: You have to take me to the arcade sometime. I haven't been there in forever. And I'll be bringing a friend. Do you know Sammi Clemens? She just got dumped recently, and I want to take her out somewhere fun."

Mike raised his eyebrows. He decided to tell Matilda right now that it was the guy who had dumped Sammi that he had dreamed about, that he had thought he was interested in. "Actually, I do know her," he began, his expression hesitant. He wasn't sure Sammi would want to spend time with him, since he was still friends with Mark. He didn't know how she was taking the breakup.

In the end, Matilda agreed that it would probably not be the best idea to bring Sammi along. She would just have to find another way to get her friend out and having fun.

* * *

><p>Norah had not once looked around to discover that she was far from the sight of her father's fields. With all the single-minded intensity an eight-year-old can muster, she had been chasing this little blue light like it was the only thing in the world. Finally, what seemed only a few steps after she had started, she caught the persistent thing! Smiling in triumph, she took a deep breath, not yet opening her hands to examine this pretty thing she had caught. She wanted to enjoy the feel of victory for just a moment longer. But as she watched the faint blue glow that outlined her fingers, she felt a sickening swoop and a chill in her right hand.<p>

"What _are_ you, little light?" she asked, her right arm tingling up to the elbow. She hadn't known it could move _through_ her hand! She rubbed at her arm with her left hand.

"Why, 'tis a Will O' The Wisp," came a strange, lilting voice. Norah started in surprise; she hadn't noticed anyone else nearby! For the first time she looked around, and realized that she had ventured far into the woods.

Examining the strange figure before her, Norah asked, "Who are you?" Her question was frank and innocent, in that way children have before they begin to truly grow up.

"I?" the impish figure asked. "Why, I am the most powerful creature in all the land, dearie!" He gave a half-bow as he made this proclamation.

"How did you get here? Do you live in this forest?" Norah felt a bit uneasy, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was lost or because she was talking to a stranger.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "Nae, child, I am but wandering. As are you, it would seem!" he added, sounding almost triumphant.

Norah suddenly remembered why she was here. "That little blue light – that thing that went, _swoop_, right through my hand like that? I followed it. But," she added, looking around, "it's gone now." Her face grew solemn. "And now I don't know the way out," she said. "I wonder if it will come back and show me how to get home." Her lower lip had begun to tremble just a bit.

"There won't be any need for that, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said, smirking. "When you're ready to leave, you have but to turn around and you will be back where you started."

"That's impossible!" exclaimed Norah, her tone reminiscent of a parent admonishing a child.

"Nothing's impossible, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin gloated. "Not with magic."

"But I can't do any magic!" Norah protested.

"Who said it would be you doing the magic, little one?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

Norah gaped in wonder. "You can do magic? Real magic?"

"As real as can be," Rumpelstiltskin replied smugly. "But all magic comes with a price, dearie."

Swallowing, Norah felt her uneasiness grow. "What would be the price to take me back to the farm, like you just said?"

"For something as simple as that? Let's see," he mused, "how about… a lock of your hair, little missy?" Rumpelstiltskin's smirk was especially devious.

"I'm Norah," she said, realizing she had not introduced herself as she pulled at her braid, messy now after her heedless romp through the woods. "I'm not to carry a knife, Father says I'm too little."

"Worry you not," said Rumpelstiltskin, "I need no knife." He took hold of a tress of her hair and, near the end of it, he pinched the fine hairs between the thumb and finger of both hands. His right thumb and finger were pressed against his left thumb and finger, and when he suddenly pulled them apart, a lock of her hair came loose in one hand without hurting her at all. She gasped; this was truly magic!

"The price is paid, then, dearie," he said. "Simply turn around and you can go home." He chuckled sinisterly. "And remember," he called as she started to turn away, "Don't go wandering off into the woods alone!" He waved, a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"But what is your name," she asked, before quite finishing her turn.

"Oh, we shall meet again, dearie, and I shall make your dreams come true" he said, almost sinisterly. "By then you'll know my name." His high-pitched giggle seemed to echo through the forest as Norah glanced away nervously. And sure enough, there was the edge of the forest! Whirling back, there was no sign of impish figure, but she thought she could still hear a faint giggle that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle.

Shivering, Norah ran out into the hot noonday sunshine. She could hear her father calling for her, and somehow the heat of the sun beating on her skin and the ordinary sound of her father's voice made everything that had happened in the forest seem like a strange dream of foolish nonsense.

* * *

><p>Instead of simply letting Paige in and then going out to do errands, as he usually did, Gold had stayed to take his payment for the day before. Paige had been embarrassed at first to be having sex right out in the shop itself, but the sensations had taken her beyond that now.<p>

She was leaning back against the display case that also served as Mr. Gold's main counter, right next to the cash register. Her back was to the door. At first she had been concerned that anyone walking past the door could see straight to that counter, but as Gold had pointed out, the shop's lights were not on, which would make it impossible to see that far into the shop unless someone were to press his or her face to the glass.

He had unbuttoned Paige's shirt and lifted both her camisole and her bra up to expose her breasts. For a while he'd had her leaning back over the countertop so he could see them, but when that had started to hurt, Paige had put her arms around him, holding herself in a more upright position and pressing her breasts against him. Before she had done that, he had unbuttoned his own dress shirt, so that only the thin fabric of his tank top was between their chests. Paige could feel that fabric rubbing against her nipples as she and Gold writhed against each other, and it felt just rough enough to excite her even more.

As Gold thrust into her, his pants around his knees, she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his hip and thigh. "Oh, God, yes, Paige," he moaned in her ear. The sounds of her heavy breathing and nearly-silent gasps of pleasure were intoxicating, as always, but he found himself wishing that he could hear her cry out for him. He wanted to hear her voice raised in pleasure, calling out his name as she orgasmed. He tried to think of a way to make it possible without her losing her chance at saving her brothers, but Paige suddenly started kissing his neck. She had never done _that_ before.

Mr. Gold could feel Paige's lips as she kissed and even sucked on his skin. At first, he worried that this would leave marks, but he quickly realized that Paige was being careful to only suck on the line where his neck joined his body, where any marks would remain unseen behind the collar of his dress shirts, so he didn't say anything. Not until he felt her nip him lightly with her teeth.

"Oh, God," he moaned again, feeling almost shivery from the sensation of her teeth gently biting and releasing the flesh at the base of his neck. It pushed him over the edge and he lost his rhythm, giving two savage thrusts before he came, crying out her name as he did. Paige hadn't quite been there, but when she heard Mr. Gold call out her name, when she felt his fingers dig into her back, that was all it took.

As their legs gave out, they slid slowly to the floor. Almost as if they had planned it, they ended up lying parallel to the display counter, with Paige half on top of Mr. Gold. For a long moment, they just lay there basking in the afterglow, then Gold nuzzled his cheek against the top of Paige's head. "That was… beyond… I'm afraid you've rendered me speechless, dove," he said, smirking slightly.

He could almost feel Paige's reaction. She was still a little embarrassed by how much she enjoyed herself with him, but he also got a strong sense of satisfaction from her, with a hint of pride. His smirk deepened. Once time had started again, she had finally been able to start accepting her own desires.

When he realized that Paige was already starting to fall asleep, he chuckled. "So was it good for you, too?" he asked wryly.

Paige sleepily nodded her head against his shoulder, but after another moment, she reluctantly pushed herself up to a kneeling position. **I should clean up and get started,** she signed.

"If you need to rest first, you can go upstairs where you can get more comfortable," he offered.

**Thanks, but I'm just being lazy,** she signed.

Gold smiled at her, almost a leer, as he said, "Well, if you need to rest a bit later, don't hesitate. A pregnant woman needs her rest, especially after such… exertions."

As Paige disappeared into the back with her pants in hand, Gold caught a glimpse of the blush that rose to her cheeks. As he started to get up, he saw that her panties had gotten wedged under the edge of the display case. Grinning widely, he grabbed them before he maneuvered himself up and set his clothes to rights, leaving only his suit jacket unbuttoned. Grabbing his cane, he headed into his office, where he tucked them into the pocket of his coat before hurrying back out into the shop. He knew Paige would not suspect that he could move fast enough, so he was fairly sure she would not check his coat pocket. He put his cane back exactly how it had been before Paige left the room and leaned against the counter as he buttoned his suit jacket. Just in time, too; Paige came back into the front just as he did so.

**Have you seen my panties, **she signed, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Lost them again, dove?" he asked, looking around. "They don't seem to be up here. Hand me my cane, please."

Paige picked up the cane, which was a few steps away from the register, and took those few steps to Gold, but almost before he took the cane, he could feel her hands patting at his pockets. "Not there, I'm afraid, dove," he smirked. She gave him a sour look before she proceeded to check the rest of his pockets, even going so far as to reach into his jacket to check the breast pocket of his dress shirt. When her search turned up nothing, he said, "I tried to tell you, dove."

Paige frowned tightly, then slipped her feet into her flats, which she had left at the edge of the display case. She disappeared into the back, and Gold heard her getting into her purse and going back to the bathroom. It seemed she had taken to carrying an extra pair of panties with her. He couldn't help chuckling over that.

* * *

><p>After locking up his shop for the day, Gold made his way to Greensmountain Heights. He knew Marsha would be working a late shift tonight, and there was something he needed to take care of.<p>

When she had taken him into Dr. Horne's office, which also housed the large wooden cabinet where the patients' medications were kept, he briskly dispensed with the pleasantries before asking about Paige's father.

"Oh, Jude?" Marsha replied. "Nothing has changed, really. He's still mostly unresponsive. We have to feed him and bathe him, and change him. The only thing that gets any reaction is mention of his daughter, and it's still a very negative reaction."

"Have there been any specific incidents lately?" At Marsha's questioning look, Gold went on. "As you may recall, Nurse Sanford, I am his daughter's legal guardian, and I know she has been worried lately." Of course, he didn't know how much of that worry was specifically about her father, but he knew Marsha would think that Paige was concerned for Jude's health.

"Oh, um, let me see…" she started, thinking back. Since she _was_ Jude's primary caregiver, every detail or remark from any other caregiver was left for her to review when she came in for her next shift.

Mr. Gold cleared his throat. He smirked when Marsha jumped, then suggested, "Perhaps you should go and get his file, Nurse."

"Of course! I was working on it in the staff room, it won't take a minute to go and grab it," she said.

"Actually, while you're there, perhaps you could get me some coffee?" Without waiting for Marsha to respond, he said, "Decaf, I think, this time of night. Two creams, two sugars, there's a good girl."

"Yes, coffee, right!" Marsha said, a bit flustered. "I'm sorry, I should have offered you some sooner!"

"Not to worry, my dear," Gold said, a glint in his eye.

"I'll be _right_ back," Marsha promised, backing out of the door.

Gold knew that, on the night shift, there wouldn't be any decaf already brewed. The night shift wanted that caffeine. Which, of course, was why he had asked for decaf. He needed Marsha out of his way for a few minutes.

He hadn't bothered to take the leather gloves off his hands, and now he pulled out his lock picks and got to work on the lock that kept the medicine cabinet closed. It didn't take long, and he was soon rifling through Jude Cygnus' medications. He selected a nearly full bottle and poured the contents into an empty container from his pocket. Then he pulled out another container, this one full of pills that looked identical to the ones he had just emptied, and transferred the new pills into the bottle from the medicine cabinet. He put everything back just as he had found it, relocked the cabinet, and made absolutely sure that he had both of his own containers back in his pocket before sitting down again.

By the time Marsha came back, he knew he looked as if he had sat there, rather bored, the whole time he had waited for her.

"I'm so sorry. I had to make a new pot, but at least it's fresh," she said, handing him the coffee, which he sipped before putting it aside. He barely listened as she detailed Jude's pathetic, miserable existence. He was thinking of Paige. He knew that, once the Curse was broken, she would figure out that this was his doing. He wondered if she would be angry with him, or if she would understand why he _had_ to do this. But he firmly told himself that it didn't matter what Paige – or really Eliza, he supposed – would think of him for having done this to her father. He had been very specific, and if he did not to do this, he would be breaking a deal. He had only ever broken one deal in his life.

* * *

><p>When he left, Marsha realized that Gold had barely touched the coffee she had made for him. She wondered if he was worried about Paige, although perhaps he was angry at Marsha herself for some reason, but she was rather irritated that she had gone to all that trouble for him and he hadn't appreciated her effort. He hadn't even thanked her for it! Something about that man made her skin crawl, but she couldn't put her finger on what, exactly.<p>

* * *

><p>Eliza giggled and tried to catch the dust motes floating in the sunbeams. But every time she opened her hands, nothing was there. "Momma, momma," she called out, running to where Aenor sat on the new spring grass. There wasn't even a blanket down; Aenor had wanted to feel the soft, sun-warmed grass beneath her. This sort of thing was the very reason she came out to the forest as often as she could.<p>

"Momma," Eliza said sulkily, holding out her chubby hand for her mother to inspect. "They are not there!"

Aenor laughed. "What isn't there, my little star?" Eliza was six, and usually forgot all her troubles when her mother called her that. But this time, she was quite perturbed.

"The shiny things in the light," she said, pointing back to where she had been standing.

"Oh, my darling," said Aenor, "those are far too small to see when they are not catching the light of the sun. And they are so very tiny that, even if you did catch them, they would drift away again as soon as you started to open your hand."

Eliza pouted. "But I want them. They're pretty, and I want some!"

"Now, now, Eliza," Aenor said, smiling. "We cannot keep every pretty thing we see. Sometimes the only thing we _can_ keep is a memory of what catches our fancy."

"What's a membory?" Eliza asked.

"A _memory_, sweetling," Aenor said, correcting her daughter's mispronunciation, "is a kind of thought. What did we do yesterday, Eliza?"

"Um, we… walked in the garden, and we played tea party, and Doctor Nerean gave me a sweetmeat for being a good girl when he bandageded my knee," the six-year-old princess recited.

"Now you see, Eliza, you _remembered_ all of that. Everything that we remember is called a memory. Some memories are good, and some are bad," Aenor explained.

"Like falling and hurting my knee?" Eliza asked.

Laughing, Aenor said, "Yes, sweetling, that is a _bad_ memory. But what about that sweetmeat? Was that a good memory or a bad one?"

"Um… Good?" Eliza's face brightened when her mother smiled and nodded.

"That's right, my fine girl. My, you _are _growing by leaps and bounds," Aenor said. "In fact, I think you might be taller than you were yesterday!"

Eliza gave a great, crowing laugh. "Measure, measure!" she demanded.

Aenor gave her a pretend-stern look. "Now, you silly girl," she teased, "you _know_ we cannot measure you way out here. We make our mark on the corner of your fireplace, and how are we supposed to stand you against your old mark when we cannot even _see_ your fireplace?"

Eliza laughed herself silly, and her mother joined in. But after a moment, Eliza looked up at Aenor, the laughter fading from her face. "Whatever is the matter, sweetling?" Aenor asked.

"Momma," Eliza said somberly, "can we still do this after _he_ comes?" She pointed at her mother's stomach.

Aenor was only a month pregnant with her second child, and she hadn't even told her husband, let alone her daughter. She hadn't even known it herself until yesterday. "What do you mean, Eliza?"

"The _baby_," the little girl said impatiently. "Is he going to make us stay at the castle all the time?"

"I have not even told your father yet," Aenor said softly, sounding shocked. "How can you possibly know?"

Eliza snuggled into her mother's lap, laying her head against Aenor's flat stomach. "It sounds different now," she answered. "I can hear him in there."

"Oh, my little star," Aenor said, smiling gently. This time, Eliza smiled up at her mother, pleased. "I never dreamed you could hear him so soon." Aenor thought wistfully of her own childhood. If she had not been the only child, would she have been able to hear that her mother was pregnant before anyone else even knew? She assumed that this talent came from her fairy ancestor. True, the story had been much grimmer than what she had originally been told, but still, fairy blood meant gifted descendants, no matter how it had come about. Of course, they were far enough descended that Aenor herself had very little in the way of magical ability, and she had only used it once, to tell if someone was being completely honest with her. The prophecy she had been born under had warned her against using her small talent frivolously. Little Eliza had almost no magic whatsoever, although she was very clever, and learned things at an astounding rate. And now she had sensed Aenor's pregnancy only a mere day after Aenor herself had discovered it.

Then she realized what her daughter had said. "What makes you think it will be a boy, sweetling?"

Eliza lifted her head and looked critically at her mother's stomach, giving a heavy sigh. She met her mother's eyes and, shaking her head, said very seriously, "I can just tell."

Aenor laughed softly, hugging her daughter. She wanted to take a moment to let this all sink in, but Eliza soon squirmed out of her arms, running over to play by the stream that babbled along the edge of the clearing.

* * *

><p>August knew he didn't have much time left, so he decided that he wanted to go out and have fun tonight. When he had told Henry earlier today that he was out of Operation Cobra, he had also told the boy that he wanted to spend as much of that time with his father as possible. That was true, but Marco had made plans tonight with Dr. Hopper, so August was at loose ends, anyway. Besides, this might be his last time to just have fun for a very long time. He had overheard Ruby talking about going to a club when he came in for lunch, and she had very obligingly told him where it was when he asked. Ruby had said it was fun, and he had decided that he trusted Ruby's judgment on this, even though he doubted it would be much like a club in a big city. But then again, anything was better than spending the evening alone in his room, waiting for more of his body to turn into wood.<p>

* * *

><p>Mike couldn't believe that he had let Mark drag him to the club again. Mike knew he wouldn't have fun here tonight, not even with Paige here. He wasn't sure he wanted to pretend everything was okay tonight. Also, he knew that the only reason Mark had insisted tonight was because Ruby would be here, too. Mark would expect him to dance with Paige, giving Mark the perfect excuse to grind on Ruby. Even though Mike suspected that he was not as interested in Mark as he had thought, he still had no desire to watch Mark dance with Ruby. Part of Mike still felt a little bit jealous of the pretty waitress, despite the fact that he knew that much of her bad reputation was undeserved.<p>

It took him completely by surprise to see both Paige and Ruby dancing with that writer, August. And they were dancing quite provocatively. August seemed to be enjoying himself far too much, in Mike's opinion. The word Matilda had used a few days ago punched him in the gut again. _Jealous_. He didn't like the way Paige was dancing with August. For that matter, he didn't like the flirty smile on her face, either.

"Ouch," Mark muttered, catching sight of the threesome on the dance floor. "Um, hey, Mike, you alright?"

"Fine," Mike said tightly.

Mark raised his eyebrows, but let Mike's lie go unchallenged. "Hey, maybe we should cut in or something, what do you say?"

"Yes, let's cut in," Mike answered, gritting his teeth.

"Well, come on," Mark said, making his way toward the dance floor.

But by the time they reached the approximate spot where August and the girls had been dancing, the trio was headed for a table on the far side of the room. August had an arm around each girl, and Mike didn't care that the man was limping. He hoped that damned writer had broken his foot! The self-deprecating smile that the man was flashing at both girls was also quite flirtatious. His jaw set, Mike started making his way toward the table, not even noticing that Mark was trying to caution him.

* * *

><p>Ruby and Paige both staggered as August swayed on his supposedly "good" leg. "I'm so sorry. I've got us all fumbling around like drunks, don't I?" he joked. Paige could tell that he was embarrassed and simply trying to cover it up with humor.<p>

When they had all sat down at the table, August said, "Here, let's get a round of drinks. It's on me, ladies. Whatever your hearts desire." He grinned, almost wickedly.

**You are nothing but a shameless flirt, **Paige signed while Ruby caught a waiter's attention.

"Yeah, not sure I got all that," August said. "Something about 'you are nothing but' and 'flirt,' but I think there was an insult somewhere in all that," he teased.

After he and Ruby had ordered drinks, August looked at Paige. "Lay it on me," he said. "Let's see if it's a drink I know the sign for." So Paige went ahead and signed to him, waving Ruby to silence. "Wait, was that Sprite?" August looked a little confused. "You know, I'm paying, so don't be afraid to get something good, Paige," he said, grinning mischievously.

When Paige looked at her, Ruby said, "Actually, she can't. She's pregnant."

"Oh," August said, his eyebrows raised. But he decided not to ask about the father, and why Paige was flirting with him like this. He figured that the fact that she was flirting was either an attempt to feel like someone other than just that one man wanted her, or it meant that the father was not in the picture. Either way, it was her business, and he had no intention of taking either of these girls home, anyway. He doubted that they would be able to see that his body was reverting to that of a wooden puppet, but all he really wanted tonight was to flirt, dance, and maybe steal a kiss or two, then leave the girl he'd kissed wanting more. He found things more enjoyable that way. He liked to think of it as keeping his options open. Besides, he was a bit worried that he might not be able to perform right now, with his body reverting. Best not to risk embarrassing himself. For some strange reason, he also found himself wondering what Marco would think of him if he _did_ take a girl back to his room at Granny's for a one-night stand. In a small town like this, he doubted he could keep something like that a secret, at least not for long.

**Does that make me less fun?** Paige had seen the surprise on his face, and she guessed that he was wondering about the baby's father.

"Actually, I think you're tons of fun," he answered, grinning flirtatiously. "Provided, of course, that you just said being pregnant makes you not as much fun?"

Paige laughed silently, nodding slightly and making a motion with her hand to tell him that was more or less what she had meant.

When the waiter brought their drinks, he eyed Ruby up and down, and she eyed him back, grinning. August was busy telling Paige about the lemurs, and Ruby was only half-listening; she had heard this before.

There was an open curiosity on Paige's face, mixed with child-like wonder. Like Ruby, she had never heard of lemurs before, and they sounded like something she wanted to see. Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her arm roughly.

"Hey, Paige," Mike said. His voice was strained; he was trying to sound pleasant, but the anger showed through anyway, especially to Paige.

**Mike, **she signed, **what are you doing here?**

Instead of answering, Mike smiled tightly at August and Ruby. "I'm just going to steal her away for a minute," he said, pulling Paige over to the little hallway where the bathrooms were. It was quieter there. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, but didn't let her answer. "I saw you out there dancing with him, and then you sat there and flirted with him! He is a player, Paige, he only wants to take either you or Ruby back to his room and sleep with you! Or her, whatever." At Paige's expression, he went on, "I'm sure he seems nice and all, but he is only after _one_ thing. And besides, people think you're dating me, and I hope you realize what they're going to assume about you when they see you all over this… this… _writer_."

Paige pulled her arm out of Mike's grasp. **Well, if you don't like me dancing with him, then go home. You have no right – **

Mike grabbed Paige's hands. "Or were you _planning_ on sleeping with him? Are you ditching Gold for him, or are you going to screw them both? Hell, why not at the same time?"

Pulling her hands away, Paige slapped Mike hard across the face. As soon as she had done it, she wished she hadn't, but there was no taking it back now, so she signed, **No matter what you think, I am **_**not**_** a slut! If you really cared, you could at least try to **_**talk**_** to me about what I'm doing that you don't like, instead of getting pissed and lecturing me. You're not my father, and you don't want to be my boyfriend, but I thought you were at least my friend. Maybe you should try acting like it.**

Mike clenched his jaw, then deliberately released it and took a deep breath. "I can't do this right now, Paige. I don't want to say anything I'll regret, and I am this close to doing just that. So spend the night with Ruby, go back to August's room with him, run to your dirty old man, whatever, but don't expect to see me again tonight. I won't be coming home, so if you go back there, someone will have to stay with you. It damn sure won't be August, though, because I refuse to allow him in my house. I can't say that about Gold, since he's your primary guardian, but the council probably wouldn't approve of just Ruby being there for you. Just… whatever." Mike turned and stalked away. Paige leaned against the wall, crying, and watched him leave.

"Are you all right," came a man's voice. Startled, Paige spun to face the slight, dark-haired man behind her. "Hi, sorry, I'm Jefferson," he said. "And you are?"

Paige reached for her phone when she realized that she still had her purse. It wasn't her normal purse; she thought of it as her club purse. It was quite small, but with a long strap so she could wear it across her body. She kept a notebook and a pen in there, along with a few other things. Pulling out the notebook, she wrote her name on the paper, and that she couldn't speak.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Jefferson said distractedly. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something strange about this girl. Paige, who had studied him more closely while he read her note, was nearly gaping.

She took the notebook back and wrote. _Do you… remember?_

When Jefferson read that, he looked at her again, his own face registering shock. "You mean the past?"

_The real past, not this fake one the Curse gave us? _Paige was nearly breathless, hoping she was right. Maybe he had some answers. Maybe she and Gold and Regina weren't the only ones who remembered, and maybe there were others. Maybe they could do something about this horrible Curse.

"You mean – you remember it, too?" Jefferson hadn't expected to meet anyone else who knew the truth.

Paige hesitated for a moment, then asked him the question that was burning in her mind. _Do you have two sets of memories, too? Do you have the nightmares, where you wake up and you don't even know who you are? Do you look at people, and you know them from back then, and all you want to do is talk to them, but you know that if you do, you'll just end up disappointed, since they can't remember who they really are?_

Tears filled Jefferson's eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "Like my Grace… here, she's called Paige, the same as you. Bitch couldn't even come up with enough unique names to go around, could she?" he said, half to himself. He burned with anger. Regina had a lot to answer for.

Then he thought about what Paige had written. "So… who was that you were fighting with?"

Paige gave a wry, nearly-silent laugh. _You know, here he has the same first name as a guy who owns a garage. So much for Regina's originality. But his name, his real name, is Andrew. -__He-was-__ We were betrothed. _She had started to write that he was her true love, but she couldn't bring herself to put that down on the paper, so she had marked out that unfinished sentence and started a new one.

Jefferson didn't say anything, he just put a consoling hand on Paige's shoulder. He could see that she loved Andrew very much. Just then, Ruby showed up.

"Hey, Paige, you okay?" she asked. "I saw Mike leaving, but that creepy friend of his kept hitting on me, and I couldn't get away until August started telling him about his travels."

Paige just looked at Ruby for a moment before shaking her head no. She flung herself into Ruby's arms and cried. As usual, her crying was nearly silent.

* * *

><p>Eliza had readily crossed the noisy stream to reach the little blue light that had appeared, bobbing about just out of her mother's sight. But Aenor had lain back on the grass and closed her eyes; not asleep, just letting the sun warm her while the breeze toyed with the strands of her long red hair. She didn't notice that her daughter had disappeared.<p>

This little light wasn't as pretty as the tiny golden ones that Eliza had chased in the beams of sunlight, but this one was bigger, and glowed even without the touch of the sun. Surely that meant she could catch _this_ light and keep it. She chased it, giggling occasionally as it swooped along.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin sat on the edge of a large stump in a small clearing, the same clearing where he had once crashed a little girl's tea party. He had collected Norah's hair nearly nine months ago. He could have lured Eliza out of her palace, or away from one of Aenor's little picnic spots that was closer to the palace, but he knew that late every spring, on or near her birthday, Aenor came out to the place where she had grown up, bringing only her daughter and one or two retainers. Aenor always visited her parents while out here, but mostly she wanted to spend time in the forest where she had grown up. Rumpelstiltskin had decided that it would be a nice irony to bring Eliza to the very place where her eventual birth had been assured so many years ago.<p>

He held his hands out as if he were winding yarn, but there was nothing there. He slowly wound the invisible strand around one hand, giggling softly to himself. As the moments passed, a faint, bluish glow began to be noticeable around his hand. No single strand of the wound-up tether could be seen, but it was certainly there. Suddenly, though, he sat up straight, looking surprised. "Well, well, well," he muttered to himself. "The cheeky little brat." His voice was a mixture of irritation and amusement.

As he stood, the tether disappeared. Rumpelstiltskin strode past a tree and was suddenly not there anymore.

Somewhere in the forest, a Will-O-The-Wisp darted away, freed from its captor.

* * *

><p>Eliza stopped, staring somberly at the little blue light bobbing tantalizingly close. She didn't know how she knew, but she was suddenly certain that this little light could not be caught. It felt wrong, somehow, as if chasing after this light was not the idle fun that chasing the little motes in the sunlight had been. This was serious, and she should stop.<p>

When she turned around, she realized that she was lost. Swallowing hard, she looked up at the sun. She could remember that it had always been on her left, so if she kept it on her right until she came to the stream, she could find her way back to her mother. Or at least, she hoped so.

Firmly telling herself not to cry, the six-year-old started trying to retrace her steps. She never even noticed the blue light flit away as if it had suddenly been spooked.

* * *

><p>Aenor sat up. She suddenly felt that something was wrong in the forest, and she couldn't see Eliza, but she did not call for the girl. She thought she recognized the presence she felt, and if it was <em>him<em>, she wanted to draw no attention to herself or her daughter. Although the area was rather isolated, with few people for any deal-making, perhaps he often gathered supplies here. Perhaps that was how he had originally found her all those years ago. She kept telling herself that his presence here did not necessarily mean harm to her or Eliza, but she very much feared that she was wrong.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin watched little Eliza trudge purposefully through the forest. She was taking a much straighter path back to her mother; the Wisp had led her around these obstacles. But in a way, perhaps it was for the best. Giggling softly to himself, Rumpelstiltskin worked a little magic, and the child soon found that her hair had become inexplicably tangled up in the brambles she had been easing around. Like her mother, she was usually very good at making her way through the forest without getting caught by branches and thorns and such, but with the Dark One's magic working against her, Eliza didn't have a chance.<p>

The girl whimpered as she struggled to unwind her red hair from the brambles. She became more desperate with each passing moment, until she finally managed to free herself. Half-sobbing, she ran in the direction of the stream.

Practically dancing over to the brambles, Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his hands together and giggled delightedly. The girl had been so desperate to get back to her mother that she had left some of her hair behind. Snatching it up, the impish little man said, "Yes, I see, very empathetic, that one. No wonder she sensed the danger." There was a cheerful lilt in his voice as he referred to himself as a danger. Looking after her, hearing the fading sounds of her headlong rush to escape what she had sensed, he smirked. With a high-pitched giggle, Rumpelstiltskin disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

* * *

><p>Aenor waited, her heart in her throat. The presence was gone, as suddenly as blowing out a candle would bring darkness to a room. And there came little Eliza, her hair wild and tangled, her face tear-streaked. She ran to her mother, and Aenor rushed to meet her.<p>

Throwing herself into her mother's arms, Eliza sobbed and explained herself, but it was nearly incoherent. Aenor soothed the child, and when the girl had calmed down, Aenor finally got the whole story. She was impressed by her daughter's intuition and courage. The girl was only six! "Oh, my brave girl," she whispered, using her fingers to gently untangle Eliza's hair. "My sweet, brave girl."

* * *

><p>Ruby had insisted on driving Paige home, even though Paige had offered to walk if Ruby wanted to stay at the club. When they reached Paige's house, Ruby asked if Paige wanted company, but Paige texted to thank her for the offer, but decline. She told Ruby that she would be fine by herself for a bit, but in truth, she was furious, and she didn't want Ruby to see her like this.<p>

As soon as she had locked her door behind herself, Paige sat on the couch and punched a pillow several times. It didn't help much, so she picked up the pillow and hugged it to herself, angry tears glittering in her eyes. She wished she could just scream out loud. Suddenly she remembered that Mike kept a punching bag in the shed. He would hang it on a hook on his small back porch, sometimes to relieve tension, sometimes just for exercise.

Paige sat there for a long moment, debating. She had a key to the shed, and Mike had said he would not be coming home tonight. She wasn't supposed to be alone for more than four hours; plenty of time to blow off some steam before she texted Gold. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to come here or if it would be better for her to go to his house.

Just as she put the pillow aside and stood up, she heard a noise at her door. It was the sound of a key turning in the lock, and there was only one person who would simply let himself in rather than knock.

When Gold opened the door, he saw Paige standing in front of her couch, her fists clenched and her jaw set. "Why, Paige," he said blandly, "Michael seemed to think you wouldn't be home yet, so I let myself in."

**I noticed,** she signed. **I assume he told you that he does not plan on coming home tonight?**

"He did," Gold said simply. After a moment of tense silence, he asked, "What happened to upset him?"

**You mean aside from the fact that his precious Mark only went to the club so he could try to get into Ruby's pants? **Paige didn't even try to hide the smugly amused expression on her face. She felt it served him right to get a taste of his own medicine. **He also caught me dancing with August. He didn't want to hear that it was completely harmless. He called August a player, and told me that people would make unkind assumptions about me, since everyone thinks I'm dating him, but I know what he was really worried about. He's afraid people will realize that I'm just his cover.** As she signed, the angry tears finally spilled free, rolling unchecked down her cheeks.

Gold walked over to her and pulled out a plain white handkerchief, wiping the tears from Paige's face. "I'm sorry, dove," he said softly. With that, Paige threw her arms around him, and he eased her down onto the couch. She had thrown him off balance a bit, and he knew he couldn't stand like that for long. She wasn't crying yet, though. She still hadn't let herself go enough for that, so he held her, stroking her hair and her back. That was how he realized that she was wearing the backless halter top he had admired the month he'd collected rent early at the club. She wasn't wearing the skirt this time, just a pair of jeans.

It was interesting to feel the skin along her spine when he knew that she was fully dressed. He let his fingers play along the back of her bra, not unhooking it yet, just idly stroking across the band of her bra and the skin around it. After a few moments, he grasped the edge that had the little hooks on it and started to pull.

Paige suddenly pushed away. **No! **she signed. **Can't you ever just comfort me? Why does it always have to be about sex with you? I guess it never occurred to you that I might not be in the mood, did it? **Gold's face went still and dangerous, but he didn't try to interrupt. **I mean, what am I to you? Just another sex toy, like that vibrator you gave me? I guess I'm supposed to roll over and open my legs every time you come near me. Just lay back and let it happen, right? What about what I want? Did you ever stop to think about **_**my**_** needs? Sometimes I just need comfort. And for your information, that doesn't have to mean sex.**

His mouth set in a grim line, Gold stood. He was angry, but right at this moment, Paige didn't care. "Well, if that's how you feel, dove." He turned to leave, then turned back. "You know, perhaps you could have tried discussing it like adults instead of having your little temper tantrum." He bit the words off sharply.

As he started to open the front door, he felt a hand on his opposite wrist. For a moment, he just stood there, clenching his jaw. When he turned to face Paige, his eyes were hard and unfriendly.

**You're right, **she signed. **I'm sorry. It's not you who made me angry, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. **Gold could see in her eyes that her apology was genuine. **It's just that – well, until recently, I felt like I didn't… exactly… have a choice. About sex. With you. And tonight I just want to cry myself to sleep, preferably while being held by someone who cares, and not have any strings attached. No impending payment hanging over my head.**

Paige shook her head. **No,** she signed. **I didn't mean it like that. I know that usually, if you do something nice for me, or give me something, it's either because we've already had sex, or because we will later. It's… reciprocal. You're good to me, so I'm good to you. I didn't mean to imply that there's anything wrong with that. I just… does it always have to be sex? Can't we just sit around and talk sometimes, or, I don't know, do something non-sexual together? I like spending time with you. Like when you made me breakfast in bed, or when you took me out to Granny's to eat. Even that one time in Granny's, when you brought me the violin and I played it. It was nice having you there for that. I didn't exactly think so at the time, but I do now.**

"Well, then, dove, no sex attached, as you wish. I will hold you tonight to your heart's content, but I still prefer to get _something_ in return," Gold said. He wasn't exactly pleased that Paige had found this much of her old backbone before the Curse was even broken, but as he had eventually discovered once Eliza had grown up, that was one of the possible drawbacks in using her as a means to keep himself free of that cage. He had known the risks, and had accepted them long ago.

**How about I make **_**you**_** breakfast in bed this time? I bet you haven't had pancakes as good as mine since I moved out.** Paige's pancakes came from an old recipe, a recipe she had gotten from an aging chambermaid when she was twelve, in the world that was. Her recipe, quite literally, was out of this world.

Mr. Gold licked his lips. "Actually, you're right, Paige," he mused. "It sounds like a fair payment." Holding out his arms, he said, "Come here, then, dove."

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Apple Red As Blood," but the chapter ends before the episode does. The end of the episode will be worked into the beginning of the next chapter.

Only one more chapter before Season 1 is finished up! Just to give everyone a heads-up, there may be a significant delay after the next chapter. I'm still getting a feel for how things are going in the show now that the Curse has been broken, and I can't be sure how long it will be before I can start figuring out what I need to do for my Season 2 chapters. I've already got some rather interesting ideas, but as you are all aware, things are going to _have_ to change, what with Belle being back in the picture and all. Also, I plan to do a massive re-read of my Season 1 chapters, to make sure no potential storyline gets left behind...

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one! I had so much fun writing the two little girls!

Please Review!


	21. S1 Ch21 - Chasing Shadows

It's finally here, the last chapter of Season One! I know, about time, right? LOL!

As usual, i do not own any rights to ABC's show, characters, or plotlines - only the characters and plotlines that have emerged from my strange and often entertaining imagination.

Just a heads-up – there is a nightmare scene in this chapter. Paige dreams of paying Rumpelstiltskin's price, and those memories are interspersed with her Curse-memories of having been raped. The nightmare goes back and forth between the two worlds, so to make it easier to recognize the transitions, the first paragraph of any scene-change during the nightmare begins with a /

Also, as stated, this nightmare deals with Paige's memories of having been raped. I have done my utmost to handle the situation as delicately and inoffensively as possible. (Which seems something of an oxymoron; there is nothing delicate or inoffensive about rape...) I apologize if this scene offends or upsets anyone. The only reason I included it is to show the difference between two similar events in Eliza's life and Paige's Curse-induced memories.

Being the last chapter before the Curse is broken, this is the longest one yet! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>Eliza wept into Andrew's shoulder. She was so relieved that the trap had worked out and her would-be assassin was dead. Even though she knew Andrew was a good swordsman, she had fought the man who tried to kill her, and she knew that if he had not jumped out of the window to escape, he would have been able to fight back. She had caught him off guard; he was at least as capable with a sword as she was, and a man besides. Men's arms and shoulders were muscled differently than women's, which tended to give men the advantage, at least as far as the sword was concerned. Even though that meant the assassin and her betrothed were pretty evenly matched with the sword, the other man was older, more experienced. She had seen firsthand that his age did not slow him down.<p>

She felt like it had been blow after blow. First her father had been lost to the Swamp of No Return and tricked by that awful swamp witch, who then put her brothers under that horrible spell. Then Sir Ryan's squire had brought home the signed betrothal papers – and Sir Ryan's body. Poor Elrick had been distraught, and it had taken a lot to convince him that he had done the right thing when he allowed the man who had killed Ryan to retreat. That man had been wounded, but the fact that he had no honor was no reason to stoop to his level, even though Eliza and her father were both devastated that they hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

The only bright spot had been when Andrew came to stay with them, but not long afterward, the assassin had startled her as she prepared for bed, and ever since then, she had lived in fear for her life. She did not let it show, of course; the common people needed to see that their princess was brave in the face of personal danger. But today, while Andrew was laying the trap, she had kept to her chambers. She was so afraid of losing him that she knew she would be unable to focus on anything else until she got word that he was safe.

Andrew hadn't bothered to change or clean up after springing the trap on the assassin, but she didn't mind. As he held her close and stroked her hair, Eliza felt safe, but not entirely happy. She still needed to find a way to save her brothers.

Andrew pulled back. "Eliza?" he whispered softly. "I have to tell you something." When she met his eyes, he saw a wariness there that saddened him. She was afraid it would be more bad news, and it was. He suddenly didn't want to tell her, but she deserved to know. "That man who tried to kill you – I left him dying and sent him downstream in a little boat."

"What? Why?" Eliza was confused. "Why didn't you kill him?"

"He will not survive the wound I gave him," Andrew hastened to assure her. "You see, I've asked the men not to tell you or your father, but when we lost his trail after he tried to kill you, someone… someone came and told me how I could trap him without having to truly fight him."

"What do you mean, Andrew? Who could know how to do that?" Eliza had just assumed that Andrew would fight the man; this was the first she'd heard of a way to dispose of the assassin with little fighting.

Andrew looked away, feeling rather ashamed of himself. "Perhaps I should not mention the name in polite company," he said softly.

But that was all Eliza needed. She gasped, her eyes widening. "You went to… _him_?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But he's vile! And what terrible price did you have to pay for this information?" She drew back, out of Andrew's arms. She couldn't believe that he had trusted the foul imp. She had never met him herself, but she knew that her father despised that awful creature, and that was enough for her. Owen had never confided why he was so vehement about Rumpelstiltskin, but Eliza knew that even her father had never met the imp. But somehow, the creature's filthy dealings had almost prevented Owen from marrying Aenor. That was all her father would say about it.

"He came to me, Eliza. You see, some years back, my mother… summoned him, to learn of my future." Andrew's face was serious, and there were tears in his eyes. "I was told that I would be a king, but that I would not rule. A "flame-haired young woman" was to become my queen, according to… him, but he also added something about my preventing anyone from getting murdered. So I have worried about you so much, this whole time… and when the man's trail had gone dead, and that imp showed up… I didn't know what else to do, Eliza," he said, one tear escaping to trail down his cheek.

Eliza did not speak, but she pulled out an embroidered handkerchief to wipe that tear away.

"My price was to leave the man barely alive and put him in a boat, and push that boat out where the current would catch it." Andrew felt some measure of relief; he knew Eliza would not have wiped away that tear if she was truly angry with him.

"But how do we _know_ he died, Andrew?" she asked softly. "For all we know, that imp was waiting for him, waiting to heal him with magic. He could be coming back."

"I do not think so, Princess," Andrew said, caressing Eliza's face. "He said that this would stop the assassin."

"But did he specifically say that the man would never again try to kill me?" Eliza was not angry with Andrew, but she was rather disappointed in him. "From everything I've heard, that foul imp can make truth stand up and do a fine jig, so that what you think he has promised turns out to mean something else entirely. And usually not something very nice."

"I know, but I love you. You told me how skilled that man was; I didn't want to risk leaving you again. Once was enough." Andrew had told Eliza of his adventure with the boar, but he had not mentioned that the girl in the red cloak had flirted with him. Nothing had come of it; he had not even been tempted by her, so surely Eliza did not need to hear of it.

"I love you, too," Eliza said. "But please, _please_ promise me that you will never have anything to do with that creature again!"

Andrew met her eyes. "I cannot. If it means your safety, I will do what I must, sacrifice whatever I must. Even if… even if I lose your love over it, I will not stand by and let you suffer needlessly."

Eliza's voice grew frosty. "And if I _choose_ to suffer in order to help someone? What if some sort of suffering is required to save my brothers? Am I no longer allowed to make my own choices? Do you think you own me?"

"Can a man tame a leopardess, truly tame her and own her?" Andrew replied. "I say not, for no matter how domesticated she may seem, that leopardess may one day attack and kill her supposed owner, even if he has been nothing but kind, and no human would ever understand her reasonings. No matter how hard he tries, a man cannot truly own another living creature, and especially not one so wondrous as a woman. But a man will do terrible things, risk his own life or sanity if necessary, to protect the woman he loves. Are you asking me to be less than a man?"

"Of course not," Eliza said, her anger fading at latter part of his answer. "But I do ask that you respect my choices." After a long moment, she said, "Very well. But at least promise that you will only seek _his_ help as a very last resort, and only if you have made certain that I need, or at least want, such assistance first. I would not want to choose to do something only to have it tainted by his interference."

"I… will do my best to follow your wishes, Eliza." Andrew swallowed. "I can give you no more assurance than that."

Eliza stared at him for a long moment. "I suppose that will have to do," she said. "But tell me, love, what else is upsetting you? I can see some horrible truth in your eyes, something worse."

Andrew drew a shaking breath. He had to tell her who had hired the assassin.

* * *

><p>Mike heard Matilda trying to move around quietly in the kitchen. He sat up on the couch. "I'm not asleep, Mat," he called out. "You don't have to be quiet."<p>

Last night, he had told her about how he'd caught Paige dancing with August. She hadn't said much, just listened sympathetically, which had quite possibly been the best thing she could have done. He was still upset, but now part of his anger was at himself. He had not handled the situation very well at all, and he could only hope that Paige had it in her to forgive him.

Matilda came in and sat on the couch, with a cup of juice in one hand and a paper plate in the other. "I left the box of Pop-Tarts out on the counter for you, and juice is in the fridge. There's a cup out for you, too."

Mike hadn't slept much, and he knew his hair was badly tousled from tossing and turning on Matilda's couch, so as he stumbled around the unfamiliar kitchen, he tried to smooth it somewhat. When he went back into the living room with his own breakfast, Matilda gave him a hard look.

"You have to talk to her," she said.

Mike nearly choked on a bite of his Pop-Tart. "But… what if she doesn't want to see me right now?"

"If you want her to be able to forgive you, you _have_ to talk to her. The sooner you do it, the better. Don't give her time to sit around all day and brood on what you did, just go apologize." Matilda paused for a moment, then added, "And since you're clearly so jealous of any man that goes near her, you might want to tell her that, too. You don't have to tell her you want to date her or anything, just let her know you've been giving your friendship with her a good, hard look. Tell her you don't like seeing her flirt with other men, but you're still not sure how this might play out. Tell her something, so she understands why you overreacted. Otherwise, she might just think that you're trying to control her for no apparent reason."

"Mat, I'm not trying to control her," he said.

"Aren't you?" Matilda gave him a steady look. She knew Mike didn't want to hear this, but he had seemed to want her bluntness before, so she was going to give it to him now. "You don't like her sleeping with that other guy, and you don't like her dancing with tall, dark, and handsome writers. You want her to _not_ do those things, right?" Mike didn't answer. "That's control, Mike. It's one thing if she chooses not to do those things out love, or at least respect, because you two are a couple; it's a whole different ball game when you're not a couple, but you expect her not to do them anyway, just because you don't like it."

Mike's face had gone red with anger. "You know what?" he snapped, but stopped suddenly. He thought for a moment, then changed what he had been about to say. "You're right," he said, his voice much calmer. "I _am_ being a controlling bastard, aren't I?"

"Well, I didn't mean that, exactly," Matilda said.

"But it's true," Mike answered. "I know I have a lot to work on, but I'm going to go talk to Paige right now."

"Oh, finish your Pop-Tarts first. You shouldn't go without breakfast," Matilda said, grabbing Mike's arm as he started to get up.

Mike chuckled. "Breakfast of champions, eh, Mat?"

"Yeah," she said, grinning, "champion bug-killers!"

Smiling wryly, Mike added, "And champion assholes."

"Mike, if you do this, it makes you a champion at trying to be a better person, not a champion asshole," Matilda said, patting his arm.

* * *

><p>Gold sat in Paige's bed, sniffing the air appreciatively. He heard Paige on the steps, and when she came into the room, he had eyes only for that tray of pancakes. She unfolded the little legs and stood the tray on the bed next to him, then went to open the curtains. Mr. Gold glanced over at her and did a double-take. He realized that Paige was wearing nothing but a thin tank top and a pair of white panties.<p>

She blushed when she saw him stare, signing, **I'm sorry, I didn't even think – let me put something else on.**

As she opened a dresser drawer and began to rummage through it, Gold said, "There's no need, dove. You look fine in that." He kept glancing over at Paige while he took three pancakes off the top of the stack and helped himself to the butter and syrup Paige had brought along.

When Paige turned to look at him, she saw the darkness in his eyes that she had come to enjoy, but she signed, **I still don't want to have sex right now, and it's not very nice to wear something like this that makes you want it if you're not going to get it. It just seems, I don't know, rude, I guess.**

"I _can_ control myself, you know," he said. "Sometimes it can be enjoyable to look when you know you can't touch. Builds up the anticipation for later."

Paige blushed; she knew as well as he did that there would be a later. Just because she wasn't in the mood now didn't mean she never wanted it again. She closed the drawer. **Okay. **But she still hesitated.

"Come on, Paige, before I eat all the pancakes. I'm sure you're hungry, too." There was something in the way he said hungry that made Paige blush again, but she did climb onto her side of the bed. Gold put the tray of pancakes between them, and while Paige helped herself to some breakfast, he could barely keep his eyes off the thin fabric that didn't quite obscure her breasts. Aside from the pancakes, butter, and syrup, she had also brought up juice, a couple of bananas, and some bread, lightly toasted and already buttered.

While they ate, he kept his word, admiring her body without acting on his desires.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold was just preparing to leave when Paige's doorbell rang. She had since changed; even though it was her day off, she had things to do, like a doctor's appointment. When she answered it, she was shocked to find Mike standing there.<p>

"Paige, I –" Mike cut off as soon as he realized that Gold was standing there. His mouth tightened as he bit down the rude comment he wanted to make. When he was sure he could control his tongue, he said, "Mr. Gold." It was meant as a greeting, and he even managed to make it not sound completely rude.

"Michael," Gold replied. If the young man was willing to make the effort, so was he. He suspected that Michael was only trying to keep Paige happy, but at least he was trying. From the look on Paige's face, she was both glad and confused. She hadn't yet put on the long-sleeve burn-out tee she planned to wear, so she was standing there in yoga pants and a tank top. Even though he knew it would anger Michael and maybe irritate Paige as well, Gold couldn't help himself. "Well, have a good day, dove," he said, reaching out to trail the tips of his fingers along the sensitive spots on the back of her arm as he spoke.

Paige couldn't quite suppress the desire that his touch raised in her, and her lips parted as she gave a soft, gasping breath. Before she could sign anything to him, Gold let himself out, smirking.

Mike swallowed hard. He felt like he had just witnessed something rather intimate, or at least like he had interrupted something. He glanced over at Paige, not sure what to say. She was looking at him like she wasn't sure what she was dealing with.

Which, of course, was exactly how she felt. Was he going to be angry at having seen that, or would he understand that Gold was just trying to upset him? She wanted to make conversation with him, but she wasn't sure how to begin it.

"I don't like that," Mike said.

**I'm sorry,** Paige signed. **He doesn't usually – I mean, not when he's just saying goodbye like that.** Her face was red from embarrassment, and she felt her heart sinking. She was sure it was just going to be another fight.

So she was surprised when Mike said, "That's not exactly what I meant. I… I get… jealous, I guess, when I know you're with him, when he's… touching you, and whatever else. And with August last night, when I saw you smiling at him all flirty like that, and… the suggestive way you were dancing with him… I just saw red. I was so mad, but I had no right to treat you like I did." He stopped, not sure he could continue.

**Mike, what are you saying?** Paige felt hope stirring yet again, but she tried to suppress it. How often had her hopes only led to crushing disappointment?

Not able to look her in the eye, Mike said, "I don't like seeing you with other guys. I – I think I was wrong, Paige. About… liking guys. I think… maybe… I might have feelings for you. But I'm not sure. I'm just so confused." He looked lost, and Paige wanted nothing more than to hold him, but she couldn't, not without hearing more.

**What does all this mean for us, Mike? I have to know where things stand between us. I don't want a repeat of last night. I don't want to be told I'm a slut just because I decided to dance with some guy.** Paige wanted to say more, to accuse Mike of being out of line, but he had already admitted as much. She was afraid that if she pushed the point too far, this would still turn into a fight.

"I'm still not one hundred percent sure, Paige, but I want to try. I want to take you out, like I did before… our fight." He swallowed. He still didn't like the idea of raising Gold's baby, but the fact that Paige had chosen him over Gold had to mean something. "I can't promise you anything, about us, or about helping you raise that man's child, but I just… I want to try, Paige. Can we please just try?" He finally raised his eyes to meet hers, and she could see how afraid he was that she wouldn't forgive him.

Tears ran down Paige's face as she signed, **Yes! I've been wanting this for so long – I mean, let's try. We can take our time, as much as you need.**

Mike sighed in relief. "I'm so sorry, Paige. I've been such an ass."

**Yes,** she signed, **yes, you have.** She moved forward, hesitantly reaching up to embrace him. Hurt by the wariness in her eyes, Mike stepped into the hug, holding her tightly. What hurt the most was knowing that she had every right to be so wary, knowing that he had done this to her.

After a moment, Paige pulled back. She wanted to lean in for a kiss, but she could sense that Mike wasn't ready for that just yet, so she let the moment pass. **I have an ultrasound today. Emma's supposed to take me, but I'd really like it if you did, instead. **There was a hesitation in her hands. **They should be able to tell me the gender today, as long as the baby isn't turned the wrong way. I know you said no promises about the baby, but this is… important to me. I mean, I understand if it's too much too fast, but… **She made herself stop, clasping her hands together tightly before she could start begging him. She didn't want him to agree just to make her stop harassing him about it, but there was a part of her that wanted to promise him anything in the world if he would just do this one thing for her.

Mike swallowed. He wasn't sure he was ready to jump right into it like this, but he _had_ just said he wanted to try. "Okay," he said simply.

**I'll text Emma right now,** Paige signed. She was so happy that she practically glowed. **Thank you, Mike. You don't know how much this means to me!**

* * *

><p>Eliza paced the floor. Owen and Nerean were the only other two in the room with her, although there were guards just outside the door. The assassin had gotten far too close for comfort, and Owen was taking his own safety, and especially Eliza's, much more seriously right now. Elrick, formerly Sir Ryan's squire, was to be knighted on the morrow, and his first duty would be Eliza's safety.<p>

"Can we go in after that swamp witch? _Make_ her tell what she did to my brothers?" Eliza was desperate. She should have been hearing her peoples' petitions at this hour, but Andrew was filling in for her.

"I fear not, Eliza," Dr. Nerean said sadly. "She is not knowing the counter-spell. I did look for that when I read her memories, but alas, there was nothing to find."

"But maybe she's learned of it since," Eliza suggested. "You know the way out, right? We can go in and question her, and you can get us back out again."

"Sadly, sweet girl, a faun retains but little of the gleanings of another's mind in situations where our delving is being so assiduously fought. In sooth, I surely did erase her own memories of the way out, and did make it so that she cannot relearn it, but the only thoughts of hers that still are remaining in me are her hatred for that Swamp, and a terrible, terrible loneliness. No soul aside from her mother did she know, and the woman-child both loved and despised her mother."

"As I recall, she was all woman, my friend," Owen said almost sourly, recalling how she had tried, time and again, to seduce him. And how close she had occasionally come to weakening his intentions. He had not admitted that to anyone, though, even though he knew that he was only a man, and every man is tempted sometimes. He especially didn't want Eliza to know about it.

"A woman in body, perhaps, and in some of her desires, but a child in her heart of hearts. Nothing more than a petulant child who is wanting someone else to make everything all better. It is being a thing that many adults wish for at times, but that witch still believed it possible, with a strength of belief which is more usually reserved for young children." Nerean almost sounded like he felt sorry for her, but although Eliza didn't feel the woman deserved any sympathy, Nerean _had_ been in Lilura's mind. He would know how she felt far better than Eliza ever could. But part of her still wanted to slap that compassion off the doctor's face.

"We have to find a way!" Eliza cried, tears in her eyes. She couldn't imagine how it felt to turn into a swan every night, to spend far more time as a swan than as a human. Her brothers had actually not been gone for very long when they first flew off, right after the spell had been cast and she had chased them until the river barred her way. That had happened in the earlier part of spring, and while that day itself had been a particularly warm day, the winter overall had been rather colder than was usual, so the lakes and ponds had not yet thawed out completely. Once the thaw had happened, her brothers had been able to come back to woods near the manor, and from there her father had led them home to the castle.

Though she had spent as much time with her brothers as she could, none of them would talk about what it was like. They said they wanted to focus on happier things, which she could understand. But it was winter-time again, and her brothers had migrated to a warmer climate where the ponds and lakes would not freeze. Eliza ached to have even just that one hour a day with them; anything would be better than this. What if they ran afoul of a hunter? What if one of them took sick, with no one to nurse him?

"I have sent word to the fairies. I know that your mother's fairy blood means little to them, but their fairy dust is powerful," Owen said, trying to reassure his daughter. "Surely the fairies can help us."

"But what if they can't, Father? What then?" Eliza felt the tears running down her cheeks, but she paid them no mind. She had shed so many tears over the last year or so that it hardly seemed to matter anymore.

"There is always being one other option," Nerean said hesitantly. When neither of his companions seemed to understand his meaning, he somewhat reluctantly said the name. "Rumpelstiltskin."

"NO!" Eliza cried, her face darkening with anger.

"Never!" shouted the king. "I would rather rip my own beating heart out of my chest with my bare hands than trust to that filthy imp!"

"I am very much remembering the pain he caused you so many years ago, my friend," Nerean said mildly, seeming unaffected by their anger. Both were nearly legendary for their tempers; to anger them both was a thing to make the bravest knights tremble in fear. But Nerean acted as though this were an ordinary conversation. "If you will but recall, 'twas I who held you through your weeping. But in the end, his interference came to naught. You were marrying the girl after all, and did have many fine years with her, although those years were cut too short." A brief expression of sadness tinged with guilt crossed the doctor's face before he continued. "Perhaps the time has arrived to let the past stay behind you, where it is belonging, and be thinking, instead, upon what is best for the future."

His voice low, Owen said, "I swear to you, I will _not._" Somehow, that soft voice seemed more threatening than shouting would, and was far more effective.

The faun's ruddy face went a bit pale as he replied, "Very well, then. I will not be mentioning it again, and I am very truly sorry to have so been upsetting you." Nerean glanced at Eliza, but she was glaring at him, too. "Both of you."

Owen took a deep breath. He was still furious, but he knew Nerean was only trying to help. The doctor would not have mentioned it if he hadn't thought it would help. When he trusted himself to speak again, Owen's voice was still tight with the anger he was trying to suppress. "See that you do not mention that foul creature to me again."

Eliza took her cue from her father and swallowed her anger, although there was a part of her that Nerean's suggestion had touched, a part that wondered if saving her brothers might not be worth whatever price the imp exacted. She hated Rumpelstiltskin, but it was based solely on her father's knowledge of the man. Even though Rumpelstiltskin's dealings had nearly cost her father his one true love, things had turned out alright in the end. But seeing the look on her father's face, Eliza pushed that seed of doubt down as deep as she could bury it. If she went against his wishes, even if it did save her brothers, she was not sure her father could ever forgive her. What if he disowned her, or banished her? What if, on top of paying Rumpelstiltskin's price, she also lost her family? It might mean losing her betrothal, losing her own true love. It would not be worth it, she decided.

* * *

><p>Paige gave a soft, ironic snort. She could remember a time when this argument had gone the opposite way. <strong>But technically speaking, Mr. Gold <strong>_**is**_** the biological father.** She decided to throw Mike's own line of reasoning back at him. **Don't you think he has a right to know?**

Mike sighed, exasperated. "I just don't like the idea of you being alone with him. Who knows what might happen? What he might do to you?"

She almost wanted to laugh. The last time they had argued about discussing the pregnancy with Gold, it was Paige who had not wanted to do it, partly because of what he might do to her. But now that she had accepted the fact that she liked the things they did together, Mike was against it. **You said you can't make any promises, Mike. And until you can, I can't promise not to have sex with Mr. Gold. I know you don't like it, but I hate not knowing if I can count on you, so it's just like any other compromise. Neither of us is entirely happy with the situation, but at least we're not fighting about it.**

Mike's mouth tightened. They were sitting in his car, still in the parking lot at the hospital, where Paige had been sent for her ultrasound. "What about at the club? What about flirting with random guys?"

**I won't dance with other guys, just with Ruby, okay? I didn't even realize that you might get jealous if you knew I was dancing with August. I mean, except maybe if you wished it was you dancing with him.** Paige winced. **Sorry, I didn't mean that to be as insulting as it seemed.**

"You're right, Paige," Mike said, his face still showing anger. "You thought I wasn't into in girls, so why should I care who you dance with?" Mike paused for a moment, his expression softening. "I'm really sorry about last night, Paige. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

Paige put a hand on his arm so he would look up. She couldn't sign to him if he wasn't looking at her hands. **Mike, it's human nature. I mean, did you even know, before you saw it? That my dancing with August would make you so jealous?**

Giving a heavy sigh, Mike tried to figure out how to answer that one without giving her any specifics. "Well… a few days ago I had… a really weird dream. And it made me realize that I was jealous that Mr. Gold can… touch you, have sex with you. I still wasn't sure at first, but when I saw you at the club, and I just wanted to punch that guy right on that smarmy grin of his for the way he was looking at you, I knew that I was wrong about liking guys. So I kind of knew, but not really, if that makes any sense."

**It does, Mike. And I'm sorry. Aside from Mr. Gold, you don't have to be jealous of another man. I promise. **This one was an easy promise to make, but Paige swallowed. She was suddenly wondering what would happen if Mike did decide he wanted to date her. What would Gold say? What would he do? As she asked herself these questions, Paige began to wonder if Mr. Gold would even be the problem. Surely she or Mike could make some kind of deal for the sex to stop, but what if she didn't _want_ it to stop? But she firmly told herself that even the pleasure she got from Gold was nothing in comparison with true love. If Mike could only remember that he loved her, she could do anything, give up anything, for him.

Mike sighed again. "You're right, Paige. You're right, and I'm wrong. He deserves to know. But I will _not_ go in there with you."

Paige wanted to point out that it would be the only way to prevent anything from happening between her and Mr. Gold, but she wasn't sure she wanted Mike to realize that. She was already starting to anticipate what Gold might have in mind for today. She was pretty sure he would be expecting her; he knew that this had been an important doctor's appointment.

* * *

><p>As she watched Mike drive away from the pawn shop, Paige felt a tight fist in her stomach. She loved him with all her heart, but she couldn't give up her time with Mr. Gold until Mike had figured out what he wanted. Would he fall in love with her all over again? Was the Curse weakening that much? Or would he just end up breaking her heart?<p>

She heard the door opening. Gold stepped out of his shop, saying, "Perfect timing, dove. I was just about to lock up for my lunch hour."

**I know, I was worried we wouldn't make it in time, **she signed back. **Then you would have had to come all the way back downstairs to let me in.**

A thoughtful expression on his face, Gold said, "Perhaps I should think about giving you your own key to the shop, dove." His trust in Paige struck him as odd; he wasn't normally the trusting type, but Paige seemed shyly hesitant all of a sudden.

**Can we… go inside? **she asked.

Without answering, Gold held the door for her and gave a little half-bow, with a slightly mocking smirk on his face. She made for the stairs, not even waiting while he locked the door and flipped the sign.

Paige was sitting at the table Gold had brought out from storage after they'd broken the old one while consummating their second deal; as he entered the apartment, Gold found himself wondering if this table was a bit sturdier. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Paige blushed and looked away from him. When she glanced back, he saw a hint of that seductive darkness in her eyes.

"What have you got there, dove," he asked, opening the fridge to get out the deli sandwich he had bought on his way to work this morning.

**I just had an ultrasound,** Paige signed, after putting down the picture she'd pulled out of her purse. When Gold leaned closer, she picked it back up and handed it to him. **It's a girl,** she added.

Studying the decidedly odd-looking image, he asked, "Are you sure? What's that bit right there, then?"

When Paige saw what he was pointing at, she replied, **That's the umbilical cord. I know, I asked them that, too, I thought it was… something else. But look, those three lines right there? **She indicated a certain spot on the picture. **The technician says those are her "girl parts."**

Gold smirked. "If you say so," he remarked, in a tone that made it seem that he didn't believe her. But Paige just shot him a wry glance. She could tell that he was just trying to push her buttons.

* * *

><p>After Mr. Gold finished eating, he casually remarked, "I was wondering earlier, if this table is any… sturdier… than the last one."<p>

Paige eyed the table legs, blushing slightly. **I guess that all depends on how rough you are with me this time. **When she looked at him, he could see that this worried her. He thought he knew why, too. Her young man seemed to finally be coming around, and he was sure she worried that this might jeopardize her chances at reconnecting with him.

"How are things with young Michael?" He wanted to know just how much she was risking here.

**He… he wants to try to go back to how things were, but he did admit that he may have been wrong about… not being attracted to me. **Paige had a pretty good idea why Mr. Gold was asking this, and she was both surprised and pleased that he was concerned about her happiness. **But he said he can't make any promises, so I told him that I can't promise not to have sex with you.**

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to, dove," he said. The compassion looked odd on his face, and Paige was truly touched to see it there. "You love him. I know what it is to choose something else over love. Be sure your reasons are good ones." His voice was thick with emotion as he thought of both Baelfire and Belle. At least he had a chance at getting Bae back.

**How can I lose what I'm not sure I ever had? **was her reply.

"But back in the Enchanted Forest," Gold started, but Paige interrupted.

**Even back there, the fact that I am carrying your child might well have been enough. If this Curse is ever broken, I may lose him anyway, no matter that he loved me once. **Paige's hands went still, her face serious. Gold seemed engrossed in his own thoughts, but he looked up when Paige raised her hands to sign again. **Who did you… I mean, what was her name?**

Mr. Gold was silent for a long moment. It stretched on so long that Paige was about to sign that it wasn't her business anyway, but just as she started to lift her hands, he whispered, "Belle." Then he shook himself, looking surprised that he had spoken aloud. When he met Paige's eyes, she saw a glimmer of the deep pain he kept hidden.

**I'm sorry,** she signed, before he could say anything else. **I shouldn't have asked.**

Swallowing hard, Gold said, "It's alright, dove." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words.

Paige went to him and stroked his face. Her hand still cupping his chin, she drew him in for a kiss. He didn't pull away, but he didn't respond as eagerly as she expected. Pulling back, Paige signed, **We don't have to do this if you don't want to. **She felt a surge of irony; this was the second time in one day that she had found herself in a role reversal with one of the men in her life. She realized suddenly that Mr. Gold had become very important to her.

Instead of answering, Gold stood up and kissed Paige thoroughly. He pressed himself against her as he turned them so that Paige could feel the edge of the table against the backs of her thighs. When Gold broke the kiss, he stared at Paige for a long moment, and while there was heat in his gaze, she thought there was something else, something she couldn't quite place. Then he smirked and said, "My lunch hour won't last forever, dove." With that, they both began tearing at each other's clothes, suddenly desperate.

* * *

><p>Standing in the garden that had been Aenor's favorite, Owen reached out for Eliza's hand. The fairies had sent word that they would send a representative. Sir Elrick stood at attention, scanning the familiar garden as if assassins might crawl out of the dying flowers, or out of an overlooking window.<p>

Suddenly, a fairy flew in. She was tiny, and Eliza began to wonder about her own fairy ancestry. She could only suppose that fairies could change their size if they wished.

"I am the Blue Fairy," the tiny, winged woman said.

"I am Owen, king of this land of blueberries, and this is my daughter, the Crown Princess Eliza."

"How do you do," Eliza murmured politely.

"I understand there is a spell that needs to be lifted," the fairy said, and would have said more, but Owen interrupted her.

"My sons, they have been turned to swans," he cried. "Please, you must help! There must be something you can do!"

"Where are they now?" she asked, her tiny face compassionate. Upon learning that they were on a large pond on one of the blueberry farms near the castle, she said, "I will find them and examine them, but I will have to go home to confer with my sisters about this. Magical transformations are notoriously difficult, especially without knowing the spell."

Eliza was suddenly glad that Nerean was not out here with them. He was helping Andrew sort out some kind of financial problem that Eliza couldn't seem to make herself care about. Nerean had admitted that he had tried to find the spell in Lilura's mind, but that she somehow kept that one thing from him. He had seemed distraught at the time, so she and her father had reassured him that knowing the spell itself would come to naught, since they were seeking the counterspell.

Looking gravely at Owen and Eliza, the Blue Fairy said, "This will take time, but we will do our best to help you." Then she flew away, her tiny form quickly lost to sight over the castle wall.

* * *

><p>When she finally returned, nearly three months later, Owen and Eliza tried to caution themselves to be prepared for the possibility of failure, but neither one could help but believe their problem was solved.<p>

Without even greeting the fairy, Eliza burst out, "Well? Can you help us?"

"I fear that it is not possible at this time," the fairy said, her face compassionate.

"What?" asked Owen, his face going pale.

"But… my brothers and I," Eliza said, panic on her face. She had pinned all her hopes on the fairies. "We're descended from a fairy!"

"A Gancanagh, I know," the Blue Fairy replied. She looked both apologetic and sympathetic now. "We usually try to keep a tighter hold on them, but they're very good at… sneaking away."

"Without the Gancanagh, I would not exist, so I seek no pity or excuses for the plight of my ancestress," Eliza said, almost brusquely. "What I mean is, I know we are not worthy of the honor, but the fact is that we are kin of yours, however distant that may be. Are we truly so undeserving of your aid in our hour of need?"

"Eliza," the fairy said, looking pained. "It is not a matter of deserving. I truly wish we could help, but right now – have you heard of the queen Regina?"

Glancing at her father, who was still too emotional to respond, Eliza said, "Yes, we know of her. She is the widow of King Leopold, is she not?"

"Yes, and she is evil," answered the Blue Fairy. "She has threatened the Enchanted Forest with a terrible curse, a Curse to end all curses. We do not know how much time we will have, but we must prepare. Eliza, Owen, we're still not sure if we could reverse this swan spell. It is a very powerful spell, and the witch who cast it clearly has a strong talent for magic. But there things we must turn our attention to, things we _must_ prepare before this Curse is cast. It will take us to another world, one without any magic, and we must turn all our efforts, and all our fairy dust, to finding a way to stop this Curse, or at least finding out how it can be broken. I'm so sorry."

Eliza's knees gave out, but Sir Elrick caught her before she hit the ground and carried her a few steps away so he could set her down gently on the grass. Owen, sobbing, leaned on a nearby bench.

"But without magic," Eliza whispered, "what will happen to my brothers? Will they die?"

"I'm afraid I don't know that, Eliza," the fairy said sadly. "I can only hope that the Curse will not allow it. Regina wishes to make everyone suffer, not die. I can give you no more hope than that."

"When?" Eliza felt lost. "When is it coming? And how bad is it going to be?"

"We're not sure," answered the Blue Fairy. "But we are doing everything we can."

* * *

><p>Paige shivered, looking down at her former self. Eliza was naked, chained to those three great nails in the clearing. She had just signed Rumpelstiltskin's contract.<p>

When Paige closed her eyes, not wanting to see this, she suddenly found that she _was_ Eliza. Opening her eyes, she looked up at the impish little man in fear. She tried not to feel Rumpelstiltskin's fingers trailing up one of her outstretched legs, tried not to pull away. Pulling away hurt, because of how cruelly her legs were stretched apart by the chains.

Instead she tried to think of her betrothal, but that only reminded her once again of just how painful this price would be. One of the main expectations was that it would be Andrew's child that would eventually succeed her on the Blueberry Throne. Unless Rumpelstiltskin's child proved unfit, that could not happen now. Andrew might not even want to marry her after this!

She was abruptly brought back to her current situation when she felt teeth sink into the soft flesh on the inside of her leg, just above her left ankle. Eliza squirmed before the pain reminded her that she shouldn't. She clenched her teeth so she wouldn't scream.

The foul little man moved up her left leg, covering the fleshier parts of her leg with the imprints of his teeth. When he reached the very top of her thigh, he moved to her right ankle and started working his way up again. His last bite on her right leg was so high on her inner thigh that she could feel his stubbled cheek pressing against parts of her that had never been touched by bare flesh before. Even when she washed herself, there was always a cloth between her hand and those intimate, sensitive parts. Her mother had always told her that only her husband should touch her there, or the doctor delivering any babies she might have.

After leaving a few bite-marks on the ample flesh of her lower stomach, Rumpelstiltskin twisted Eliza's hips viciously. She felt a sudden sharp pain in the small of her back, and a very slight groan of pain escaped her lips. Fortunately, it was, as Rumpelstiltskin had specified, no louder than a gentle wind whispering through the trees. She let out a breath that sounded like a faint, faint whimper as Rumpelstiltskin's teeth bit into the soft flesh of her behind.

/ Suddenly, everything was different. Paige could no longer feel any bite marks, and the muscles in her legs didn't feel as strained. It was full dark all of a sudden, where moments ago it had not quite been sunset. In the patchy moonlight streaming through the trees, she could make out six figures, some of whom were holding her down. _No_, she thought, _not this!_

That sharp pain at the small of her back was still there, but Paige didn't know if she had done it herself in her struggling, or if one of the guys had done something simply to cause her pain.

The guy who seemed to be in charge brandished a knife at her. "Scream for me," he whispered in dark, seductive tones. When only a soft cry escaped Paige's lips, he sliced the front of her shirt open. Paige did scream then, but it didn't stop him. He sliced all of her clothes off with only a tiny nick on Paige's thigh when she nearly pulled her right leg free.

"Hold her tighter, dumbass!" yelled the guy with the knife, as he backhanded the one who had almost lost his hold on Paige's leg.

The tattered remnants of Paige's clothes were trapped under her body, but the guys didn't seem to care now that she was naked. For some strange reason, Paige found herself wishing that the guys would get the sliced pieces of clothing out from under her. It somehow seemed more degrading this way.

Tears stung Paige's eyes as the guys made jeering remarks about her weight. One of them even remarked in crude terms that she was probably a virgin because she was fat. Paige knew that she was overweight, but not by as much as they were making it out to be. Or was she _really_ that fat?

Paige was trying so hard to ignore the comments that it took her by surprise when the leader pressed himself against her. His pants were pushed down to the tops of his thighs. She whimpered as he started to force himself inside of her. She begged him not to do it, but then he gave one hard, fast thrust and she felt something give inside her. She cried out, partly in pain and partly in humiliation.

/ Then she was back in the dappled light of the setting sun. Eliza could feel more bite marks than before, across her stomach, breasts, and arms. Rumpelstiltskin was using his tongue on a very sensitive spot between her legs. Eliza squirmed a little again; that felt like too much. It didn't hurt, exactly, but she couldn't put words to the strange sensation that was building in her body. The pain in her back reminded her not to struggle.

Slowly working a finger inside her, Rumpelstiltskin smirked as he felt her starting to get wet. He worked her with his mouth and his finger until the wetness spread. It would still be painful for her this way, but not as painful as it could be. He unlaced his leather pants and pressed himself against her opening.

Eliza's resolve to not struggle was only partly from the pain that would follow. She knew she had chosen this fate. She had made this deal, and she would do her best to handle the consequences with as much dignity as she could muster.

As Rumpelstiltskin slowly worked himself inside her, Eliza winced. She only now remembered having heard that losing her virginity would hurt. It built until, with a sudden, sharper pain, something inside seemed to break, causing Eliza's breath to come out in a long hiss.

Rumpelstiltskin watched Eliza's face, starting a very slow, almost gentle rhythm. He didn't move any faster until most of the pain had faded from her expression.

/ It was dark again, and Paige's throat was raw from screaming. Knife Guy was just pulling out of her, spent. "That was nice," he remarked snidely. "Who's next?"

It hadn't occurred to Paige that the other five guys would be taking turns. She felt stupid for not having realized that, and she also felt panicked. She wasn't sure her sanity could take much more of this, either the pain or the humiliation. These guys were supposed to have been her friends! She had thought they cared about her; how could they be doing this to her? What had she ever done to deserve this?

She couldn't help but compare this torment to her last moments in the world that was. At the time, she had thought it was the worst thing that could ever happen to her, but now she knew she was wrong. As awful as that had been, at least she had known what she was getting herself into. And even though Rumpelstiltskin was a twisted little imp, he was still only one man.

Screaming wordlessly as the next guy shoved himself roughly inside her, Paige's mind fought desperately to find some escape, some way to distance herself from what was happening. She could hear herself screaming and begging them not to do this. Part of her knew that her frightened cries were only exciting the guys further, but she couldn't seem to make herself stop.

/ The fading sunlight was back again, and she was Eliza. Rumpelstiltskin was on top of her, propped up on his hands. Eliza turned her face away, looking along the ground to avoid his eyes. That strange sensation had become a throbbing pressure now, and she wasn't sure what would happen when it was released. It could be painful, but then again, it just might feel amazing. How could this be happening? Paying this price was awful, so surely it would hurt, wouldn't it?

She felt Rumpelstiltskin shift, and his voice sounded triumphant as he shouted, "The Curse!" She felt something hot spreading inside her, and the pressure building in her body suddenly burst; at the same moment, a strange darkness that had nothing to do with the sunset swept over the pair. In the swirling rush of dark magic, Eliza couldn't hold onto herself long enough to find out how it felt for all that pressure to be released at once.

/ Paige came back to herself, lying flat on her back. She was staring up at whiteness, solid whiteness, and at first she wondered if she were dead. But she started to become aware of sounds, beeping noises and electronic hums. Her throat felt raw, like it should be bloody, and there was a needle in one arm. It took her a moment to realize that she was in the hospital.

She felt bruised and battered. Her whole body ached, and when she looked down at herself, what she could see of her skin was covered in bruised impressions of teeth. It was similar to what had happened to her in the world that was.

She had finally managed to take refuge in Eliza's memories. She had only been able to focus on her former self's worst memories and experiences while those guys were hurting her, but it was still infinitely better than what had been happening. She couldn't remember anything after the second guy had started raping her.

When a nurse came into the room, asking how she was, Paige opened her mouth to try to answer. Her throat was so sore, and she didn't want to make it worse, but she tried. And she couldn't seem to make a sound. For some reason, the Curse had not translated her vow of silence into this world. She had sworn not to speak _before_ the Curse was enacted, but many of her false memories of this world involved her speaking, including this horrifying memory. As a part of her stood off to one side and watched the scene play out, Paige thought that perhaps this was the Curse's way of interpreting the fact that she had _chosen_ to be silent in the world that was. The nurse rushed off to find a doctor.

* * *

><p>Paige sat up, gasping for air. She was confused and frightened; what had just happened? She remembered dreaming about her rape in the woods outside Storybrooke, and she also remembered flashes of paying Rumpelstiltskin in the world that was. What was going on? Who was she?<p>

She didn't remember getting out of bed, but she found that she was huddled in the corner of a dark bedroom. Whose room was it? Eliza's? Paige's? Or someone else entirely?

Rocking back and forth, she felt a scream rising in her throat. The only thing she knew for sure was that she could _not_ scream. That would be bad, but she couldn't remember why. So she pressed one hand against her mouth, trying to hold the scream in. Her breath came in shallow pants as she started to hyperventilate. She wished someone would come and help her!

Suddenly, she thought of her cell phone. There was someone she should text, or call, or something, although her panicked mind wanted to laugh hysterically at the thought of trying to call someone on the phone without ever talking. But the idea of getting up to find her phone was too much; she knew she _would_ scream if she tried.

Some small thought niggled at the back of her mind, something that might be important. Something about the wall she was huddled against. Without quite knowing why she was doing it, she used her free hand to bang against the wall. After a few moments, she heard noises, a voice. But she knew she couldn't respond, so she kept thumping the wall rhythmically.

Before long, she heard something downstairs. A door banged open, someone was running up the steps, and then she was suddenly blinded by light. Before her eyes recovered, someone was there, holding her, asking her something she couldn't comprehend. _Mike_, said the voice in the back of her head. _This is Mike._ She wasn't sure who Mike was, but knowing that it was him seemed somehow comforting. She let him hold her, rock her. She could hear his voice, but the words made no sense. It was soothing, though, and before long, the scream trying to get out of her throat started fading. By the time it had disappeared entirely, Paige remembered who she was in this world, remembered what was real, at least for now.

"What happened," Mike said once Paige had calmed down.

Her hands shaking fiercely, Paige signed, **It was awful, I dreamed about that night – those guys. When I woke up, I couldn't remember where I was, or even **_**who**_** I was. It was so weird, so scary.**

"It's okay, Paige, I'm here now," Mike said softly, grabbing a box of tissues from the dresser next to him so he could wipe away Paige's tears. But Paige pulled him closer, burying her face against his chest. She realized that he was wearing his pajamas; he hadn't stopped to put on a coat, or even any slippers. Trembling, she clung to Mike as if he were the last sane thing in a crazy world.

* * *

><p>Paige still felt shaky at breakfast later that morning. Mike had used her kitchen to scramble some eggs and make toast, keeping her in sight at all times.<p>

"Are you sure you want to go in to work today?" Mike asked, and not for the first time.

**Yes, Mike, I don't want to sit home by myself, with nothing to do but think about that awful dream. You'll be at work, anyway, and I'm not supposed to be alone here all day,** Paige replied.

"I could call out," he offered.

**No, it's better if I have something to do, **she signed.

"Well, if you need to leave work early, text me, and I'll come home as soon as I can."

Paige smiled fondly at Mike. This was how he had been before the fight, sweet and caring, willing to go that extra mile for her. **Okay, Mike I will. Thank you!**

* * *

><p>"Such a lovely little family," smirked Rumpelstiltskin. "Six strapping boys and a pretty little girl. What more could a king ask for," he queried, an almost oily tone underlying the cheerfulness.<p>

"Just keep watching," Owen replied tersely as a clock began to strike the hour. He turned away.

"What indeed," murmured Rumpelstiltskin to himself as he turned back to the window, smiling greedily. He slipped his hand into a pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a small box that was covered in brocaded silk. When he opened it, two eyes were nestled in small, corresponding dips. The entire inside of the box was lined with a plain, gray silk, but around the little hollows where the eyes rested, there were some strange, brownish stains.

The eyes were a little on the dry side, and somehow managed to give the impression that they if they only had eyelids, they would have winced at the sudden light. But Rumpelstiltskin did not even glance at them. All of his attention was on the garden this window overlooked. The eyes, unable to ever close, drank in the view almost eagerly, flicking back and forth as they absorbed the scene below.

A card game sat abandoned on a table that had clearly been brought outside only for the purpose of this game. The window was too high up to catch more than a muted sound of conversation, but the only girl in the garden, a princess by the tiara on her head, seemed very sad. _Eliza,_ Rumpelstiltskin thought to himself. The last time he had truly interacted with her was at her masquerade, where she had been well-disguised. She was even lovelier with her natural red hair, although that black wig _had_ looked spectacular on her.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked as he remembered the kiss they had shared at her masquerade. He slipped his free hand into another pocket, fingering a lock of red hair. He was glad now that he hadn't been able to collect it when he first tried, because he would have had no reason to crash her little party.

Upon the sixth and final stroke of the clock, the six princes sprang up into the air while large, white feathers fluttered about. When the air cleared, six swans were flying south, and the princess, now alone in the garden, fell to the ground weeping. The eyes in the box watched all six boys very carefully. The irises almost seemed to blur, they were moving so fast.

"Yes," mused Rumpelstiltskin once the swans had flocked together to fly away. "I see your problem." He smirked as he quietly shut the little box and tucked it back into his pocket. While the king worked up the courage to ask for Rumpelstiltskin's help, the impish man watched Eliza cry, her long, unbound hair splayed almost artfully across the grass. He wanted to see that lovely hair spread out under her, with him on top of her, thrusting himself inside her and making her cry out in a much more pleasing fashion. It was a very enjoyable image, and he was looking forward to making it a reality.

"What must be done to lift this curse? Please," the word nearly stuck in the king's throat. "Please, I will do anything."

Rumpelstiltskin turned away from the window, his fingers steepled together in front of him. Owen barely even noticed the lecherous smirk on the imp's face, even though he was staring hopefully into Rumpelstiltskin's eyes as the foul little man spoke. "There is nothing you can do to save them." Rumpelstiltskin paused a moment to watch the king's face fall. "But _she_ can." Though he tilted his head to indicate the window he had just left, his eyes remained on the king's face.

"How? What must she do?"

"I can help you find your solution – for a price."

* * *

><p>Paige leaned against the wall beside the pawnshop's door. She was a little early, but after Mike had left for work, she had been unable to sit still for very long, so she had decided to leave and just walk around the town a bit before making her way to Gold's shop.<p>

She still felt like she was reeling from the dream, and she felt like there was something important about it, something she should have realized. But she heard Gold's cane as he made his way up the sidewalk, and remembered an overheard conversation. Suddenly, she found herself very angry.

Gold noticed that something seemed to be upsetting Paige when he arrived; as he unlocked the door, he wondered if young Michael had hurt her again. Really, someone needed to teach that boy how to treat a woman. He gestured for Paige to precede him into the shop, and she didn't even sign a greeting to him. He locked the door behind himself, then turned, saying, "Paige, is –" He cut off suddenly when he saw her glaring at him.

**You did this, **she signed, her face contorted with anger.

"I assure you, dove, I've done nothing to upset your young man," he said. "Not this time, at any rate."

**This has nothing to do with Mike,** Paige signed back. **Why do I remember? Why are there two lives in my head? Why?**

Gold was taken aback. "I'm not sure what you mean, dove."

Paige took a step toward him, and for a moment, he was sure she meant to hit him. But instead she signed, **Don't give me that crap, Gold, you're the one who did this, and I want to know why! I heard you a few weeks ago, I heard what Regina said. You sent me upstairs to "make tea," but really to get me out of the way. Well, it was the last of the Earl Gray, and when I came down to tell you that so you could get more, I heard her in the shop with you.**

Mr. Gold's face had become wary and closed. What exactly had Paige heard? He had a feeling that he was about to find out.

**She may have been the one who put this Curse on everyone, but she said _you_ made it for her. So why do I remember, Gold? What do you have against me that you would torture me like this?**

"Well," he answered, "it's entirely true that I am the one who created the Dark Curse, but as for you remembering, I can't answer that. Regina cast the spell, not I."

**Regina didn't know me, she had no personal vendetta against me. So why would she make me remember both lives? No, it had to be _you_!**

He licked his lips. "I have nothing against you, Paige, and I never meant to torture you. I'm truly sorry you would think that of me." Before he could start to tell her why he thought she remembered both lives, he saw a hint of something in her eyes, perhaps embarrassment. He couldn't help but push her buttons. "But as to the _why_, you look like you've given it some thought. Please, enlighten me."

At the hint of mocking in his tone, Paige tensed. **Since it's your Curse, and since we were… **_**touching**_**, when it was cast, I thought… maybe… that could be why? **She was blushing now.

Gold smirked. "I can't imagine we were the only two people… _touching_ when the Curse hit," he teased.

**But you're the only one who made the Curse.** Paige suddenly remembered that there was another person who remembered, that guy she'd met at the club. Jefferson. Why did _he_ remember?

"Actually, dove, I think it has more to do with the fact that you were in the midst of… _consummating_ a magical contract." He had given this some thought himself, and he didn't think it was simply the fact that they had been having sex. No, he was reasonably certain that the answer he had just given Paige was the correct one, although perhaps the physical contact required by that payment had influenced things. He had put safeguards into the Curse so that he would remember everything, would know the truth. Perhaps because of Eliza's close proximity to him, she had been somewhat protected, although the Curse had still deposited its false memories in her mind.

He was distracted from his thoughts when Paige raised her hands again. **I'm sorry. It's just… I had an awful dream, about that… payment, and about the memories the Curse put in my head. It was terrible. **Paige wiped at a tear rolling down her cheek. **Please don't try to keep me from doing what I need to do to save my brothers. **She was remembering the time he had caught her spinning, and her fears that he would not like that. **I may have given up my true love for them, please don't make me give up my freedom, too. I… I don't want to belong to you for the rest of my life, not if I can help it.**

Gold looked down, his face serious. "Am I really so repulsive?"

**I used to think so,** she signed.** But that's not the reason. First of all, I don't want to be **_**owned**_** by anyone, and secondly, if it **_**does**_** happen, it means that, when it all came down to me, I failed. My kingdom will be left adrift if I cannot return to rule it, because that will mean that my brothers are still swans, and then there would be no one left to rule. My kingdom would likely fall. I don't want to be the one who destroys everything my forebears worked so hard to establish. **Smiling wryly, Paige added, **Mine is the only kingdom I know of that gives women a chance to be heroes.**

Gold felt a knot in his stomach as he thought of Belle. She had gone with him because it was the only way she could save everyone she cared about, the only way she could be a hero.

**I never wanted to be a hero, **Paige signed, **but I found myself forced into that situation, and I want to live up to it. I think it would break me if I failed. But most importantly, Mr. Gold, you're not as repulsive as you think you are. I know I've railed against you, fought my lust for you, but you knew all along that I was only doing it because I was afraid to face it. I didn't want to admit that I had those kinds of feelings for a man I don't love. But I do have them, and I need to face even the darker parts of myself, **_**especially**_** those parts, if I'm going become a hero. If I can't come to terms with who I am, both the good and the bad, how can I save myself, let alone anyone else? So I guess the only thing I can say is, thank you.**

The knot was now in Gold's throat as he tried to process what Paige was saying. He had known how terrified she was of failing at her task, but he had assumed that it was because she was disgusted by him. His voice was rough as he said, "You're, ah… you're welcome, dove."

Paige suddenly realized what it was about the dream that had been bothering her all morning. **And… thank you for… being so gentle with me, back in the Enchanted Forest. I… I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen to an innocent girl, but those memories… even though they're not real, they still… Those guys **_**truly**_** forced themselves on me. They hurt me, so much worse than I ever thought possible. But you – you could have been just as rough as they were, but you weren't. So… thank you.**

Clearing his throat, Gold murmured a response. He was shaken, and didn't know how to handle this sudden honesty from Paige. "I've, ah, got a few… errands to run. I'll... be back in a bit, dove," he said uncertainly.

* * *

><p>When he returned to open the shop, Gold didn't make eye contact with Paige, and didn't mention their earlier conversation. Paige had spent the time he was gone wondering if she'd said too much, so she didn't particularly want to bring it up, either. She wondered if it was her hormones that had brought all this out into the open.<p>

* * *

><p>Jefferson sat at his telescope, brooding. His daughter was inside the school building right now, but he had turned the telescope to where he could see her bike. It usually made him smile; she was so creative and spunky, and the way she had decorated that bike was a warming reflection of her unique personality. He swallowed; it was so hard to just watch her, to never hear her voice or see that brilliant smile of hers directed at him.<p>

He couldn't help but think of the other Paige, the one he'd met the other night. He liked to go to the club sometimes; the loud music seemed to ease the ache somehow, as if he couldn't think his own thoughts around the pulsing beat. He had never expected to meet someone else who knew that they were all under a curse, and he wondered if he would have realized it if she hadn't said it first. Well, written it, actually, he mused. There was something so hauntingly familiar about the pain in her eyes. It was a pain he knew all too well.

Looking through the eyepiece again, he noticed a card tucked behind the little nameplate his daughter had put on the back of her bike. The card had a white rabbit on it. There was only one person who would have put that there.

His face determined, he grabbed his coat and headed for the mayor's office. She would give him what he wanted, or he wouldn't do whatever it was she wanted of him. He _would_ get his daughter back, somehow!

* * *

><p>That evening, Gold smirked as he dialed a phone number.<p>

"Johnson," he said when the other man answered. "I have a favor to ask of you. I am supposed to meet the mayor and the sheriff at the library later this evening, but they have other business to attend to first and are… unsure of exactly when they'll arrive. If you should happen to notice them going into the library without me, would you be so kind as to inform me?"

Gold listened as Johnson asked a question.

"Well, I have some pressing business to take care of and I may lose track of the hour. And quite naturally, they are both very concerned about young Henry, who, as you may have heard, has been hospitalized for a very serious, very mysterious condition. It may not occur to them to call me right away, and I wouldn't want to miss anything."

He knew Johnson was intensely curious about what was going on, but the man knew better than to ask.

"I do thank you, Mr. Johnson. And of course, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone."

* * *

><p>Owen reached out blindly to grasp Eliza's hand. He was terrified that the Blue Fairy had found out who he'd gone to for help, and he was certain she would disapprove. But the fairies wouldn't help them, so nearly a year ago he had turned to the one creature he despised more than anything, and he was still deeply ashamed. But he was almost ready to summon the one that could help Eliza save her brothers. A few more months and he would be finished with his preparations. He worried that the fairies would condemn him, or, worse, stop him.<p>

But when she arrived the Blue Fairy seemed hurried. "I cannot stay long, Owen, Eliza. I just came to tell you that there is hope. A savior will be born, and we have found a way to send her on ahead of us, so that she will not be under this Curse's awful power. She will return to save us all, and break the Curse. Perhaps then we can take another look at the spell your sons are under." She looked at Owen with compassion, and he closed his eyes, embarrassed by her kindness. He felt he had betrayed her trust by seeking Rumpelstiltskin's help.

"I must go now," she said. "There is still much to prepare, but at least now we have hope." Her smile was meant to be comforting, but Owen would not even look at her. Eliza's intuition told her why he was so closed off.

"Thank you, Blue Fairy," Eliza said, and watched as the tiny figure disappeared from sight.

Owen's voice was rough. "What if this Curse happens before we can use the spell that vile creature gave us?" He still didn't like to say the name.

"We shall take that as it comes, Father. It is all we can do," Eliza answered. "But we must carry on as if we have no limits on our time. If we are ready and the Curse has not yet been cast, we _will_ do as the imp instructed."

* * *

><p>As the sun rose, Gold was leaning against the library's circulation desk, smirking to himself. Regina strained against her bonds, making incoherent sounds against the duct tape over her mouth.<p>

"Struggle all you like, dearie," he taunted, with an almost feral grin on his face. He did so enjoy seeing Regina in this state. "No one gets away from me unless I _let_ them." Even when he'd had Moe French at his mercy, Emma had only stopped him because he had allowed it. He knew she saw it as part of her job, and anything he might have done to prevent her from stopping him could well have compromised his plans for her. He _needed_ her to break this Curse, and his vengeance on Moe could wait.

Suddenly, his cell phone started ringing. "Hello," he said, almost too pleasantly. As he listened, he smiled condescendingly at Regina, walking farther away from her as she redoubled her efforts to make herself heard.

"Oh, that's terrible, Doctor Horne," he said, his devious smirk at odds with the sympathetic tone of his voice. As usual, he had timed things perfectly.

"Actually, Doctor, I find myself in the midst of some very important business just now." He listened, and added, "I'm afraid it's extremely time-sensitive. However, I do believe her secondary guardian, Michael Cochran, is with her just now. If his number isn't in your records, I would be glad to provide it to you," he offered.

After listening again, he replied, "Alright, then. And I do hope everything turns out well." There was another pause, and he said, "Well, thank you for letting me know." That seemed to end the conversation, because he hit a button and put the phone back into his pocket.

He moved over to stand by the elevator shaft. Emma should be ready to come back up soon. As he met Regina's accusing glare, he gave another self-satisfied smirk.

* * *

><p>"As much as I would love to see my family right now, I cannot leave," Andrew said, his eyes tight with anger. "You and your father are both so busy with this damned spell that it falls to me to run your kingdom. If I go home, where will your people be while you and the king go through with this hare-brained scheme?"<p>

"This could save my brothers, Andrew! How can that be hare-brained?" Eliza wanted him out of the way when her father took her out to the woods. She didn't want Andrew to decide that he needed to ride in and save her as if she were some helpless damsel. "What would you do if it were _your_ brother under this godsforsaken curse?"

Andrew gritted his teeth. "I would find some other way than that vile creature!"

"What if it were _me_, Andrew?"

The prince swallowed hard. She was right. If it were Eliza under this spell, and if Rumpelstiltskin could provide a way to save her, he would do it without thought. "Gods, Eliza! I just want you safe! If your father won't know your whereabouts, how will I? I – I might never see you again!"

Eliza blinked back tears. "I know," she said softly. "Do you honestly believe I have not thought of that myself? But I have chosen this, Andrew. Please, love, we talked about this."

"That doesn't make it any easier to think that you might be putting yourself in grave danger." Andrew's voice was husky. They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Andrew said, "I cannot make myself like it, Eliza, but I'll not try to stop you. Just… please, don't send me away like your father did when he summoned that imp. Let me spend every moment I can with you. Let us make some wonderful memories before we might lose each other forever."

"Andrew, please. Don't talk like that," Eliza said. It was clear from her tone and the anguish in her eyes that she was relenting. She sighed. "Very well, love. But you must swear to me that you will let me do what I have to do. Otherwise I shall tie you to a horse myself, and send Sir Elrick and as many other knights and soldiers as I can spare to make sure you do as I say." Her face was serious, and he knew that she would at least try to force him to leave if he didn't swear.

"I… I swear it, Eliza," he said reluctantly. "It will not be easy for me, but I will not try to stop you." He cupped the side of her face in one hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, putting her own hand on top of his to hold it in place. She shifted her face against his hand so she could press her lips to the edge of his palm. "I love you, Andrew, and I will miss you every second we are apart."

"You will never leave my thoughts. When the wind brushes your cheek, when the sun warms your skin, that will be my love, wishing you all the strength and luck in the worlds." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Let us make some memories to warm the lonely nights. How about a romantic supper under the stars?"

Eliza gave a soft laugh. "That sounds wonderful, my prince."

"And that's only the start, love," Andrew replied.

A part of the princess wanted to consummate their love before she left, but she felt as if that would be giving in to the fear that they might lose each other forever. She didn't even bring it up, especially since she had already begged Andrew not to think such negative thoughts.

* * *

><p>A scant few days later, Eliza and Owen packed up all the things that were necessary for the spell. She kissed her prince goodbye, not even noticing Sir Elrick's obvious anguish at being left behind.<p>

* * *

><p>Gold had almost reached his shop when his phone rang again. Shifting the egg-shaped capsule to one arm, he propped his phone between his ear and his shoulder, propping his cane against the wall so he could fish his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door.<p>

"Hello, Michael," he said, then listened for a moment. "Yes, Doctor Horne called me, as well. Do tell Paige I'm so sorry to hear about all this, and of course, if there's anything I can do –" He stopped as Michael cut him off. As he listened, he smirked.

When he rather awkwardly used one hip to shut the door, he almost dropped the phone, but caught it just in time. He didn't bother trying to lock the door, it would only be an extra hassle right now. Besides, the sign that read 'Closed' should be enough of a deterrent.

"Of course, Michael," he replied, making his way into his office. "In fact, tell her to take the entire day off. I know this can't be easy for her, and with a wee one on the way, she should try to avoid stress as much as she can. So tell her that if she needs any additional time off, all she has to do is let me know." Of course, he doubted she would darken the door of his shop again - at least, not as an employee. The Curse was about to be broken, and everything would change. But he also knew that Michael would read some sort of innuendo into his apparent generosity, and judging by the way the young man stammered as he replied, he was right.

He listened, his smirk deepening. "Well, do take _good_ care of her for me, Michael." After a brief pause, Gold said goodbye and hung up the phone. He opened a drawer, looking for the tool he needed to pry open the capsule.

* * *

><p>Jude's physician had left already, after trying to reassure Paige and Mike. But the man could not explain why Jude had gone into this coma, and from the way he had spoken, Paige got the impression that the man feared Jude would never wake up. Tears stung her eyes; in spite of all the unpleasant memories the Curse had given her, she still loved her father very much.<p>

Doctor Horne and Marsha were both in the room as well, and she found herself deeply saddened that the good doctor did not recognize her. She had realized who he was at the dinner she and Mike had held for the people who had been so instrumental in helping them, but with her nervousness over telling Gold she was pregnant, she hadn't really gotten too upset that he didn't know her. He looked so different without his horns and his goat-like legs and hooves. He looked tired, and even through her own pain, her heart went out to him. He had no idea that Jude Cygnus had once been among his closest friends.

Suddenly, Paige found herself staring at Marsha. She felt she should recognize this woman, but she just couldn't place it. Then Paige felt a sudden, strange sensation sweep through her. Several things happened at once: she felt better than she had in a very long time, and all those awful memories the Curse had put in her head seemed somehow lessened. It wasn't by much, but it eased some of the pain.

Another thing happened – she finally realized that Marsha was Lilura, that swamp witch whose face Paige thought had been burned into her mind. Why hadn't she recognized that horrible woman before now? Of course, the only time here in Storybrooke when she had seen Marsha had been at that dinner party, while her nerves were in such a tangle. But still…

Before Paige could do much more than stare suspiciously at Marsha, who looked like she'd just been hit by some revelation, she heard Mike gasp behind her. Dr. Horne said, "Oh!"

She paid no mind to it until Mike said hesitantly, "Eliza?"

Paige turned, her face going pale. **You… you remember?**

"Yes," he whispered. "I remember!"

"I also am remembering our true past, Eliza," Dr. Horne said softly. "The Curse, it must have been broken."

Suspicion bloomed in her gut, overwhelming her joy at having them remember. Paige turned back to Marsha, who was staring at the doctor with a mixture of horror and hatred on her face.

**What did you do to my father, witch?** Paige signed. It was only the sheer force of habit that kept her from speaking aloud, from screaming at the woman. Marsha had a moment to look at Paige's hands, confused, before Paige's fist connected with her jaw.

Marsha might have fallen, but Paige grasped the collar of the woman's shirt with her left hand and jerked the witch upright. This time, Paige's fist smashed into Marsha's cheekbone, at almost the same moment that Paige slammed her up against the large cabinet that held the patients' medications.

Paige winced, shaking her hand. That second punch had really hurt! But she was still angry, so she raised her fist again. Marsha cringed, trying to prepare herself for another blow. She hadn't tried to speak, only grunting or crying out slightly from the pain. The resignation on her face made it clear that she expected no help from the two men.

Just as Paige threw her weight into a third punch, she felt a pair of hands holding her back. She fought, trying to ignore them, to hit Marsha just one more time. But another pair of hands untangled her left fist from Marsha's shirt, and she was pulled away, still struggling. Her face was red with fury, and her hair was coming out of the claw clip that had held it up.

"Eliza!" Mike yelled. "Violence is not the answer!"

Paige pulled her right hand free of Dr. Horne's grasp to sign, **The hell it isn't!**

Horne took her hand again. "This hand of yours will surely bruise, sweet girl, and the bones, they may have been broken or cracked. I must tend to it."

Pushing his hands away, Paige signed, **That felt good. **She was still glaring daggers at Marsha.

Mike shook his head, saying, "What would Doctor Hopper say?" Since Horne now had her hand firmly in his grasp, Paige turned her glare onto Mike. "Man," he muttered, "if looks could kill!"

"Gold." Marsha's voice, shaky and pained, interrupted them. They all turned their heads to stare at her. She blinked, seeming intimidated by the attention. "He – he came in here a few days ago. Said he wanted to know how Jude – your father, was doing." She swallowed. Paige was rather pleased to note the beginnings of a black eye, and another bruise on Marsha's jaw. Marsha's lips trembled as she spoke again. "He asked for coffee, and I left him alone in here! In the other world, he was –"

"We know who he was," Mike interrupted. He couldn't believe that he had ever thought Gold was a decent man, but he had seemed to be so good to Paige. That had all been a lie, of course. He had been molesting the poor girl this whole time.

Still not knowing if there was a sign for it, Paige spelled out the name Rumpelstiltskin.

"Yes, love," Mike said, his voice rough. "Gold was Rumpelstiltskin."

Paige blinked. Her prince didn't realize that she had known it all along. She wanted to tell him, but as she raised her hands to do so, Marsha spoke again.

"It must have been _him._ The Dark One must have cursed your father." She looked pleadingly at Paige, hoping for forgiveness.

Paige signed, and Mike translated. "Rumpelstiltskin may have put him into this coma, but that does not excuse you for trying to seduce my father in the Enchanted Forest, nor for casting the swan spell on my brothers." Mike put a comforting hand on Paige's shoulder as her eyes widened, wondering where they could be. Where they here in Storybrooke somewhere? She had always wondered, but back then, she had assumed that when the Curse was broken, she would be back in her kingdom, where she belonged.

**Why didn't we go back?**

But before Mike translate her question, or try to think of an answer, a purplish mist appeared outside, sweeping toward the window. "What is that," Mike whispered, wondering why he felt so afraid of it.

Marsha and Horne answered at the same time, also whispering. "Magic." Nerean looked grave and concerned, and Marsha seemed both excited and afraid at the same time.

* * *

><p>Standing by the old well, Gold felt a fierce joy. This was what he needed to find Bae, and better still, Belle was at his side. This moment had turned out so much better than he had ever thought possible.<p>

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the end of the episode "Apple Red As Blood," as well as the episode "A Land Without Magic."

I've been working on the re-read that I mentioned before, so hopefully it won't be too long before I can start in on Season Two. I also intend to try work parallel, reading some and writing some, so that should help, too.

I hope you all have enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Looking back, I can't believe how far it's come from that crazy, sexy dream I had! And there is much more to tell, including a few new fairy tales that will be worked into Season Two.

Please Review!


	22. S2 Ch1 - One Good Turn

So here it is, the first installment of season two!

To make things easier, I will continue to primarily use the characters' Storybrooke names while in Storybrooke. As Charming/David said, they are both, and it will be easier to keep track of where we are by keeping the names separate. However, in the Storybrooke dialog, and occasionally during the narration from an individual's point of view, the characters will alternate between names at times, something ABC has already been doing.

And as usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters, storylines, etc, only those of my own devising!

* * *

><p>The garden was small and simple, as befitted the snug, humble little house to which it belonged. There was only one small koi pond, not even large enough to build a bridge over, but it was a well-landscaped garden. Under a cherry tree that was just starting to put out new leaves, a table had been set up. Four people sat around it, playing mahjong.<p>

Rumpelstiltskin smirked down at the image before him, his attention focused on the older couple. They weren't exactly elderly, but they were nearing the end of middle age. The younger man, wearing a patch where one eye was missing, spoke suddenly, grinning widely. It seemed he had just won the game.

When the older couple stood, smiling, the younger couple stood as well. As the older man spoke, shock and disbelief began to mingle with the gratitude on the younger couple's faces. Then the older couple smiled and backed away a few steps. The younger woman extended her hand, her face earnest and almost pleading as she spoke to the older couple. The older woman smiled as she replied.

Suddenly, the older couple leaned forward as one, their arms stretching out beside and slightly behind them. Their bodies seemed to both elongate and shrink at the same time. Feathers sprouted, and when it was all over, two mandarin ducks flew over the younger couple's heads. A few brightly-colored feathers from the drake's festive plumage wafted slowly past the younger couple's bewildered faces.

The image on the surface of the water faded, and Rumpelstiltskin lifted his eyes to the horizon on the far side of the water. He was sitting cross-legged on the shore of a rather large pond, perhaps large enough to be called a small lake. Beside him, the long, supple branches of an ancient willow tree caressed the shore and trailed out into the water, suggesting that there would be a sort of private, natural room on the other side. But that was of no interest to the impish man who had spied on that strange exchange.

Before long, two tiny shapes appeared on the horizon he watched, winging straight for the willow at his side. Rumpelstiltskin smirked, watching the mandarin ducks approach.

* * *

><p>Though they lacked human features, the ducks were clearly not best pleased to find Rumpelstiltskin outside their home when they returned. The drake quacked at him.<p>

"Yes, dearie, I am aware that she will not have been able to lay the egg before she even reached the nest." His tone was partly mocking, and partly irritated, but the drake ducked its head. It hadn't actually meant any offense. Seeing that the drake was sufficiently cowed, Rumpelstiltskin went on. "This egg has… a very special purpose. Someone else will be picking it up for me," he said, smirking now. "But it won't be for a while yet." There was an almost malicious glint in his eye.

The female ruffled her unremarkable plumage. Standing next to her splendidly-colored mate, she looked even more drab. She quacked softly, as if afraid to comment.

"Fret not, duckie," Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "It'll be, oh, nigh on two years before the egg is retrieved, but it will not rot. Remember, this is magic we're talking about. _My _magic. I need this man to have the egg, so have it he shall." He chuckled sinisterly. "When he arrives, he'll not be dressed like a king, but he will have the mien of one." In a dismissive tone, Rumpelstiltskin added, "You can just hand it over, or you could put him through whatever test or ordeal you see fit, dearies." His tone grew serious and intense as he added, "So long as he leaves _with – that – egg._"

Both ducks backed away slightly when the impish man turned a menacing, evil grin on them. "Don't disappoint me, dearies. Remember, I gave you all this, and I can take it away just as easily." He fixed them with a sort of smirking glare. For a long moment, the ducks seemed paralyzed by his threat. Then Rumpelstiltskin said, "Go on, then, chickie, you've an egg to lay!" He gave a high-pitched giggle and, backing away around the perimeter of the willow's rippling walls, disappeared.

* * *

><p>When the purple mist had passed, Paige turned and pulled out of Mike's arms. They had found each other almost by instinct as they watched it approach, holding each other tightly as if in fear of losing each other again. With her back to Mike, Paige rubbed surreptitiously at the mark Gold had etched onto her upper left breast, well-hidden at the moment, of course. Had she felt it tingle as magic swept through her body? Or was that just her imagination?<p>

Trying to shake off her confusion, Paige looked at Marsha, half-fearing that the witch would be triumphantly performing some spell or other. But the sight of Marsha's wary, worried expression made Paige sigh in relief.

Meeting Dr. Horne's eyes, she could see that he shared her relief. Then she turned back to Mike. She raised her hands to sign to him; there was so much he needed to know! But her eyes flicked toward the doctor for a split second. He was a friend and mentor, true, but she wasn't sure she was ready for him to hear even half of the conversation she needed to have with her prince.

Horne, however, picked up on her hesitation, suggesting, "Perhaps, my dear Eliza, you should be going on a nice, private walk with your good prince." Looking at Marsha, he added, "Worry not your selves with this one. I will be watching her closely for you."

Paige moved almost hesitantly as she took the few steps to stand in front of Dr. Horne. There were tears in her eyes, but by her expression, they were glad tears. Suddenly, she threw her arms around him.

"Oh, sweet girl," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I am very much happy to be seeing you again, as well." When Paige pulled away, Horne brushed a tear from his own eye as the young woman took Mike's hand and led him out of the office.

But he turned a stern glare on Marsha to show that he had not forgotten she was there. She licked her lips and swallowed. She wanted to say something, but she knew that the man standing before her was, in truth, a faun, and not one to be swayed by empty words or false flattery.

* * *

><p>Standing in the modest garden, Shozo plucked a bright orange feather out of the air. He scrutinized it with his one eye. "That was…"<p>

"The mandarin drake I set free," finished Yasuko. "But – how?"

"Hush, love," Shozo said. "As we have granted them the freedom to be together, so they have returned that gift to us. We should not question our good fortune."

Yasuko smiled. "You are right, Shozo." Holding hands, the couple went into their new home, basking in their freedom, and in each other's company.

* * *

><p><em>Eight Months Ago<em>

Shozo sighed. He hated any sort of excursion with his master. He had once thought the man his friend, but after Shozo had lost his eye in a duel, he had discovered that his master had only collected him like all the other attractive things the man coveted. With the ugly scar that puckered one side of Shozo's face, and the leather patch covering the part of that scar closest to the empty eye socket, the erstwhile samurai warrior was no longer an attractive thing. He didn't know why his master insisted on bringing him along so often, unless it was to drive home the point for those retainers still in favor, or to make Shozo regret having the audacity to lose an eye. Shozo was required to ride at the rear of the group, behind even the servants, so that his master would not have to see Shozo's hideous face.

They stopped to water their horses at a small lake. Or perhaps it was merely a large pond. At any rate, there was an ancient willow several yards away along the bank. Its leaves trailed out over the water. Shozo wished he could part that leafy curtain and just sit under the willow for a while, by himself. No one to stare at him, or throw the refuse from the master's dinner at him while mocking his fall from grace. Nothing but the tree, the water lapping softly at the shore, and a dim kind of greenish light. That would be bliss.

But Shozo turned his head. He was allowed no pleasures now that he was hideous. His master would only have someone sent under the willow-fronds to torment him, ruining that peaceful moment.

With an impertinent "Quack, quack!" a mandarin duck flew in, landing smoothly on the water. The brightly colored feathers marked the male of the species, the drake. Shozo had never seen a mandarin duck before; they were very rare these days. He smiled, thinking of the dull-plumed hen that must be roosting nearby. Perhaps she was on a nest of eggs, waiting for her mate to bring her food, although if so, the drake had been unable to find anything his wife would like. Shozo knew he was personifying the ducks, but it was true that mandarins mated for life, and would accept no other mate even if their current one died, so for him, that was as close to true love and marriage as any animal could get. His heart ached as he watched the drake swim around. It was eying the humans along the shore, and he knew it would not reveal the nesting site to them. Oh, for the freedom of a wild duck! And, perhaps, a mate. But Shozo knew that he would find no wife now, not since he had lost that duel. Not with his ruined face.

He kept well out of his master's way, and when a few of the lower-ranked retainers chivvied him and the servants away from the water's edge, Shozo went placidly along. He did wonder what was happening, but he knew that no one would answer him, so he didn't bother to ask. They waited around for quite some time; Shozo wondered what piece of beauty had caught his master's eye now. It was entirely possible that the man had decided that he simply must have his painter capture the way the light hit the water, or the splendid colors of the drake against the green fronds of the willow.

When the master and a few of his preferred retainers appeared where the servants had gathered, Shozo was shocked to see that two of those retainers were balancing a large wooden cage between them, with the mandarin drake inside. _How could they?_ he thought to himself. The drake was the very essence of rage and desperation. It pecked at every bar, at every space between bars. It threw its lovely body against the bars, quacking furiously.

Several of the bright feathers had been dislodged, and the master's only response was, "Make that thing stop flinging about so. It's losing all those beautiful feathers!"

Shozo could not contain himself. He marched straight up to his master, daring to stand right in front of him. "You cannot do this thing!" he cried out. "His mate will starve, and he will pine for her. He will die without her!" He would have said more, but his master backhanded him across the face, hard enough that Shozo fell to his knees, seeing stars.

"I collect any and all beautiful things that I see fit," the master said. "Get your ugly face out of my sight before I burn it off of you!"

Shozo tried to protest, but the man who had replaced him as the master's handsome samurai hauled him away. Shozo struggled, but did not truly fight. Even so, the samurai boxed Shozo's ears as if he were punishing a child. The master raised his voice, to make sure Shozo heard him say, "And give him twenty lashes for insolence!"

* * *

><p>The rare bird made the master feel even more important. Guests flocked to his home at every invitation, sometimes canceling other parties, even their own parties, to attend. Most of his gatherings even had several uninvited guests, whom he either allowed or had kicked out depending upon his whim. Shozo watched sadly as his master basked in all the attention, while the duck's health failed daily.<p>

But nearly three months after bringing it home, the master realized that the duck's feathers had grown dull and dirty. He ordered his servants to bathe the duck, but none of them wanted to go near the poor creature. They could all see that he was pining for his mate, and a bath would not cure that ailment. Whoever bathed the sad thing would face the master's wrath as soon as he realized that the bath had done no good. So they drew straws.

Yasuko, one of the lowest kitchen maids, drew the short one. Her heart sank. The other servants all bade her good luck, but although she appreciated their sympathy, she did wish they would try harder to mask their relief that they would not be punished.

She filled a tub with lukewarm water and chose the mildest soap. The master, fearing that his prize would fly away, had designated the servant's bathing chamber for this deed, and the duck was listless. It only pecked at Yasuko once, when she accidentally ruffled its feathers the wrong way, but it was almost automatic, and there was no real ire or intent to harm behind the gesture. The drake's mate was unreachable, and he hardly cared about such unimportant things as physical discomfort.

Yasuko felt her heart melt. This poor thing only wanted to be free, to find its mate. She could sympathize. She had no family of her own; her father had found her a position here because he knew he was dying, and she had been an only child. No matter what the doctors claimed, she knew her father had died of a broken heart. Her mother had died from the bite of a poisonous scorpion, and her father lost his will to live. She recognized the same symptoms in the drake.

So she bathed the duck as tenderly as she could, and started saving scraps of vegetable from her own pitiful suppers to try to tempt the bird to eat. Sheer persistence wore the duck down, and his health grew a little better, but he was still miserable, and although clean, his feathers remained lackluster.

In just one short week, Yasuko had become so devoted to caring for the duck that she had forgotten to worry about what her master would do. And when he discovered that Yasuko had taken over the care of his precious possession, the master had her whipped for failing to keep the duck healthy and beautiful.

Since the duck was no longer attracting crowds, the master had a cage built out in the garden. The cage was too small, and there was barely enough water to float in, let alone swim, but that was how the master wanted it. The cage indoors had been spacious, with a pond easily four duck-lengths wide and twice as long. _Let the creature see how kind I have been to it,_ the master thought. _Let it stare up at the sky, knowing it is mine until the day it dies._

Shozo watched the duck whenever he was not required elsewhere. His heart felt heavy as he watched it suffer, but what could he do aside from commiserate? He knew all too well that he belonged to his master until his death, and he had sometimes wondered if death might not be better.

The kitchen maid saw Shozo gazing at the duck. _He looks so sad,_ she thought. Yasuko had been only 13 when she joined the master's household, almost five years ago. Shozo was 22 then, and had lost that duel the day before she arrived. Back then, new to the household, scared, wanting to fit in, she made fun with the rest, although she'd never actually thrown anything at him. She had pretended to, whenever one of the other servants handed her something, but she was always careful that her bit of refuse never actually struck him. She found herself wishing that she could do something to take some of the pain from his face.

* * *

><p>In Storybrooke's Chinese restaurant, one of the hostesses, Megumi Hiyashi, tried to gather her wits. She was sitting on the floor, where she had landed with a thump when her memory came back. She didn't know what to make of the purplish mist that had followed just now, but she had been so in shock at remembering the truth that she had still been sitting on the floor when it swept through.<p>

Suddenly, the kitchen door burst open. Megumi's husband Takeshi came rushing out; he, too, had been thunderstruck at the revelation. "Yasuko!" he exclaimed, hurrying over to help her up off the floor.

"Shozo!" She threw her arms around him, weeping. Here, in their false lives, they had been husband and wife just as in the Enchanted Forest, but in Storybrooke, it was not a happy marriage. They had both felt chained and oppressed by their employers, the couple who owned the business, although the building itself was rented. Then Megumi's face paled. She thought she knew the faces of their overbearing bosses, and the connection didn't make any sense.

Moments later, the couple in question stepped into the restaurant. "Shozo! Yasuko!" the woman exclaimed.

Her husband added, "We are so sorry! We have treated you terribly!"

Takeshi bowed to them. "You were not yourselves, and neither were we. It was the Curse at fault, not you. We owe you two everything."

"Please," asked Megumi, "we don't know your true names. I mean, from the world we left behind."

The older couple, known as Hisashi and Kame Oshidori in Storybrooke, looked at each other. "We do not know, either," the older man said. "It has been so long since we were truly human that we have forgotten over the years."

"Oshidori," Takeshi murmured. "It means… mandarin duck."

"Yes," Kame said. "That was the form that was chosen for us. Our human bodies died, but our spirits lived on. We wanted to help others like us. Like you. We paid the price for it, but it was well worth it." Despite her words, there was a pain in her voice that suggested their price was perhaps not as well worth the reward as she had suggested.

"Then why are you human now?" Takeshi asked. In this world, he had a glass eye in the empty socket, so when he tried to adjust the eye patch in an unconscious gesture, he was startled to find it missing. Swallowing, he found himself wondering if his wife would like this better than the eye patch, although it had never seemed to bother her before.

"We cannot say," Hisashi said, his eyes giving away his nervousness. "I assume that the Curse brought us here this way, but always before we have owed… payment, for assuming our human forms."

"And there were limits to how long we could remain in these forms," Kame added. "I do not know if the same is true here." Without needing to look at each other, Kame and Hisashi reached out and clasped hands. "I wonder if we can even take our duck forms here."

Takeshi's heart went out to them; they were clearly frightened, but at least this time they had not been separated.

* * *

><p>A month after Yasuko had been whipped for her supposed failure, she was finally able to do something, not only to help the duck, but something she hoped would also bring some happiness to Shozo as well. She had begun considering this as she lay shirtless on her narrow cot, with the housekeeper tending her lashes. The woman was irritable, and nattered on constantly about lazy kitchen maids. It seemed she had known several kitchen maids in her time, who were all better than Yasuko somehow, and she had at least two long stories about each girl that proved their superiority. The housekeeper also did not deign to dress the wounds gently.<p>

But until she had witnessed Shozo's reaction to the drake's torment, Yasuko had only daydreamed. As soon as she knew Shozo wished to see the duck fly free, though, she began planning in earnest.

It was one of the master's biggest affairs, celebrating the harvest and the sweet Frost Wine that bore the savors of the summer that was now gone. This was the first time it had been made in seven years; sometimes the weather was unsuitable, and sometimes the birds carried away much of the harvest before it grew cold enough to frost lightly, but this year had been ideal. This, of course, meant that it would be a bigger, grander party than usual, and Yasuko just happened to fall violently ill that day.

The cook threw her out of the kitchen, shouting that a vomitous kitchen maid was no good to him. So she was left alone in the servants' quarters all day, and when some of the others returned briefly to change before the guests arrived, they muttered darkly about having to share out her work among them. She apologized weakly, but interrupted it with another bout of heaving. Fortunately, they all rushed from the room before they could discover that she was shamming. The herb she had chewed to make herself throw up earlier had long since worn off, and since she'd had nothing to eat all day, there was nothing to spew up now.

Her stomach grumbled, but she knew she couldn't risk sneaking into the kitchen. She waited until the big moment, when the new Frost Wine would be decanted. That was when the other servants would be busiest. When she saw her moment, she slipped out into the garden. She almost surprised a pair of guests who were taking advantage of the dark of the moon for a clandestine encounter. Unless she missed her guess, they were married – to other people! But without moonlight, it was hard to tell for sure who they were. The dim light of the stars was hardly enough to see where she was going.

But she finally found the cage without being seen. The cage was under a tree, so it was even darker here. Yasuko found the lock only by her familiarity. Once she had failed, no one else had dared go near the master's duck. She opened the cage and lifted the drake out. It accepted her touch placidly. Bringing its head close to her mouth, she whispered, "Fly away! Find your mate – I hope she's okay!"

When she lifted her hands above her head, the drake hesitated only briefly. He stretched out his wings for a moment, then flew away. Yasuko only wished she could have watched him fly free, but though she strained her eyes, she could only make out a brief darkness among the stars. Suddenly, she shook herself. What was she thinking, standing out here in the darkness? How long before one of the other maids snuck away from her duties to murmur something taunting at the girl who had dared to get sick on such a busy, important day?

Rushing back, Yasuko found to her relief that she even had time to drift off into a light sleep before someone came to make fun of her.

* * *

><p>In the next kingdom over, Rumpelstiltskin was perched on the sill of a high window overlooking a large ballroom. Eliza and the newcomer had begun to dance in earnest now that their little spat was over. Rumpelstiltskin had, of course, easily recognized the Prince of Peacocks as that princeling from the Wolfsbane kingdom who had let his mother force him into a deal to learn his future.<p>

Suddenly, Rumpelstiltskin cocked his head, looking away from the masquerade unfolding before him. He smirked. Another magic egg would be due him soon. After glancing back at masked couple who were already falling madly in love, he disappeared, his own mask in his hand. Now to go and see that little swamp witch; he knew her isolation had primed her well. She would be only too glad to give him what he needed.

* * *

><p>The next morning, when the master discovered that the drake was missing, he sent for Shozo. The man had not yet heard of the drake's disappearance, but upon being accused of setting the poor beast free, Shozo smiled sadly.<p>

"Yes, master," he lied. "It was I."

Yasuko, watching from the doorway with the other kitchen maids, clapped a hand to her mouth. She hadn't meant to get poor Shozo in trouble. The master was cruel enough to him already. But before she could work up the courage to admit the truth, Shozo was being whipped.

* * *

><p>Yasuko brought a salve to tend Shozo's wounds. None of the other servants would risk the master's wrath, and besides, she felt he deserved to know. But though she tried, she couldn't seem to make herself speak while she worked, so she tended his wounds in silence. It was only when she had finished and Shozo had thanked her quietly, only when she <em>had<em> to speak up or else leave without telling him, that she was finally able to open her mouth.

"Sh-shozo?" she stammered, not sure how a maid should address a former samurai who had fallen far from their master's grace. When he barely grunted in response, still lying on his stomach with his face to the wall, she continued in a soft voice. "I'm so sorry. It was I who released the drake. You should not have been punished for my crime, but… it all happened so fast."

"It… was you?" Shozo's voice was rough, and at first Yasuko feared that he was angry. But when he shifted around until he could look at her, his face was so grateful that she almost cried. "Thank you. It _should_ have been me. I was against this from the start, but I never thought to simply release the poor creature."

"I… I will tell our master the truth, if you wish it," she offered.

"No," Shozo said, sitting up and taking both of her hands in his. He kissed her hands, not caring that they were rough and worn from her work in the kitchen. "There is no need for two to be punished for this, and I was glad to take the responsibility. It would take away what little honor I have left if you let my punishment become meaningless."

"I would never dishonor you," Yasuko said, a tear escaping her eye. "You are a kind and good man, and I wish the others were not so cruel to you."

Wiping the tear from her cheek, Shozo said, "What is your name, girl?"

"Yasuko."

"Yasuko. It's a beautiful name," he said, "for a beautiful young woman." He leaned forward and kissed her lips chastely. But he suddenly pulled away. "No," he said. I should not have done that. You deserve better than a failed samurai who has nothing left but years of shame and punishment."

"I don't want any other man. Other men are cruel, but you are kind. Other men think they can take from me what they wish, but you are gentle, and I don't believe you would ever force me to do anything I didn't want to do." Yasuko cupped Shozo's face in her hand, tilting it up so that his eyes met hers. "It is you who deserves better than a mere kitchen maid, but if I am what you want, if _you_ think I am good enough for you, then I am yours." She kissed him, tasting the salt of both their tears.

* * *

><p>In the Dark Castle, Rumpelstiltskin finally came back to the grimoire he had recently acquired from Maleficent. Those two little brats who had wanted to "switch back" had been amusing enough, but the spell he needed was in here. The spell he would someday give to Eliza's father.<p>

Muttering to himself, he located the spell. He immediately set about memorizing the complicated ingredients, the instructions, and the incantation required. "Hmm, cascarilla powder," he mused to himself. "'Best if made from an egg already possessed of inherent magical qualities.'" He chortled delightedly, remembering that he would soon be due an egg – a magical one, at that. The Blueberry king could be sent after it; a little magic would ensure that the egg would keep until it was needed. "Yes, that'll do nicely," he murmured.

* * *

><p>Paige led Mike out of Greensmountain Heights. The reception desk in the small lobby had been unmanned, but for all Paige knew, the nurse on duty had just stepped away for a moment. Though with the Curse having been broken, and magic arriving, maybe the nurse had rushed off to find someone she hadn't recognized for the past 28 years.<p>

The facility stood right at the edge of the main part of town, close enough that the sidewalk ended at the driveway, but far enough from the center that they were able to have a large, walled garden out back for patients to walk in.

They sat down on one of the benches partway around the somewhat pretentious circular driveway. There was a large fountain in the middle of the circle, but it had been dry for as long as Paige's father had been in here. Mike seemed lost in thought.

"Ruby," he said suddenly. "I knew her, back in our world. She was the girl in the red cloak, the one that killed that boar I tried to save her from. And Mary Margaret was the other girl. Snow." He smiled fondly at his remembrance.

Paige felt sad. She had led a fairly isolated life here in Storybrooke, so she hadn't seen many people that she recognized from back then.

**I wonder where Sir Elrick is in this world, **she signed.

His eyes sympathetic, Mike said, "I wonder what happened to your brothers."

Paige blinked back tears. **Actually, I was trying not to think about it.**

Mike hugged her tight. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. Paige clung to him for a long moment.

When she pulled back, Mike wiped a tear from her cheek. He said, "I think… I think you brought me out here to discuss something _I've_ been trying not to think about." When Paige only looked at him, he added, "Okay, maybe you're trying not to think about it, too. But – how? I mean, why – damn it all. How did you end up pregnant with Rumpelstiltskin's child?"

Paige looked down. She couldn't meet Mike's eyes. **When Father and I went off to summon whatever being could help us? Well, it was him. Rumpelstiltskin, I mean. He said he'd done it on purpose so that we would free him, I guess while the Curse was being cast. I had to make a deal with him to find out what I have to do to save my brothers. And the price… **Paige stopped for a moment, not wanting to go on. **The price was my chastity. And before I made my choice, he told me that a child would result if I paid his price. But he did not negotiate for the child, so this baby is mine!** She did look up at Mike then, briefly. He saw some of Eliza's old fire in her eyes, and he wanted to smile fondly at her, but he was too much in shock from what he was hearing.

**Just as he… finished with me, the Curse hit. So until Emma came to town and time started again, my pregnancy couldn't progress.**

"And since he had violated you in our world, he continued to do it here," Mike said grimly.

**Mike, don't. I… It was true, when I told you that I enjoyed Mr. Gold's attentions. He made me feel good. But now that the Curse is broken, that's all behind us, I swear to you.** Paige swallowed. She hoped she hadn't just lied to her prince, but she knew that if he was still wasn't sure he wanted to be with her, or if he broke their engagement, she would still readily succumb to Gold's desires if the opportunity came up.

"I don't want to talk about it," Mike said. His voice was nearly a growl, and much more menacing than she had ever heard from him before.

**I know you don't,** she signed. **But Andrew, I have to know – what does this mean for us?**

Mike let out a soft, anguished cry. "I don't know. Eliza, I am so very sorry, but… I need more time. I know that's all Mike ever said to you – to Paige, I mean. But now – well, now it won't be my child who inherits the throne. I _really_ don't like that idea at all. I just – I need to figure out what I should do."

**I'm sorry, Andrew. This is all my fault. I never should have made that deal.**

Mike sat silently for a moment. "You're right. It _is_ your fault. But you were just doing what you had to do to save your brothers. And according to the deal your father made, if you hadn't agreed to pay that foul man's price, you would have died. So… I shouldn't be angry that you made the choice that let me see you again, but… that imp's child, not mine! And he's tainted you. Your first experience with a man should have been with me, or at least with someone decent. Not that monster!"

**He's not as much of a monster as everyone thinks,** Paige signed. She wasn't only saying this because of the stipulation that she could not speak ill of him, either. She truly believed what she was saying. **He's just a man who's made some very wrong choices, and I know he's lost someone precious to him because of it. **She could see his face after he whispered the name Belle, and she felt her heart ache for him all over again. Then she realized that she had probably just given away her biggest secret, the one she most feared to tell her prince.

But Mike didn't seem to realize that she had most likely gotten this information in Storybrooke. "I don't care about his bloody circumstances," he muttered angrily. "After what he's done to you – to _my_ betrothed! I will never forgive him."

Paige's head came up dangerously. **You do not own me! Nor will you even if we **_**do**_** get married!** She was both angry and sad at the same time. This was just going to start another fight, but she was no one's property, and Mike or Andrew, he had to realize that if he wanted to be a part of her life.

Mike stood. "I know!" he shouted. "You are mine, and yet not mine. And I can't _make_ you do anything, and I would never want to force you anyway. And I can't do everything in my power to protect you unless you _allow_ it!" He made an exasperated noise. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to be with you? I mean, loving you, that's easy, even when you drive me nuts with your independence. But to know that you're out there putting yourself in danger, or out there doing unspeakable things with that vile old man, and knowing that I can do nothing about it – by the gods, Eliza, being betrothed to you is like fighting against nature sometimes! I'm not sure if I can do this."

Before Paige could reply, Mike stormed away down the drive, out of sight behind the hedge row along the sidewalk. Paige leaned down, putting her forehead against the fast-cooling stone where he had been sitting on the bench and sobbing nearly silently.

* * *

><p>Shozo wished the flowers had begun to grow. He knew it was probably silly, but he wanted to get Yasuko something for the three-month anniversary of their first kiss. Three months was a relatively short time, but Shozo had given up on finding love. There were times when he wanted to find some way to commemorate each and every day since that kiss.<p>

It seemed like every glance, every time they passed in their master's house was more difficult. He feared what would happen when the master discovered their secret. He knew the master would not be pleased, and Yasuko might be dismissed!

But what truly happened was worse.

* * *

><p>Nearly two weeks after that anniversary, Shozo was summoned before his master. When he arrived and saw that the entire household had gathered, he licked his lips nervously, but when the people parted to let him approach the master, he froze. Yasuko was up there, in chains!<p>

"Come, worm!" the master shouted. "Come and face your punishment!"

Shozo stumbled forward. He wanted to speak, to ask what crime his master was accusing him of, but his mouth was dry and his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. As he drew nearer, the master's samurai stepped forward and clapped iron restraints 'round Shozo's wrists. The man was grinning cruelly.

Addressing the rest of the household, the master intoned, "These two worthless traitors have plotted against their master. As you all know, we are Royalists, and a descendant of Rolph's line has been found at last. Felix is not yet king, but he has gained much support even among the other factions, so it is only a matter of time before this land has a king once more. And as a Lord of the Land, I decree that treason against my person, or against any Lord of the Land, is treason against the throne! These two pieces of filth have committed treason, and stand accused of High Treason. Let the word go out to all Lords of the Land in this area – they must meet here in a week's time to approve or disapprove of my decree. After that matter is settled, their fate will be decided."

Shozo felt his heart sink. The punishment for High Treason would certainly be death, and he had no doubt that the Lords of the Land would support his master's decree. He felt he wouldn't mind so much if Yasuko had escaped this fate, but he knew that only the master's discovery of their love could have prompted this. If simply freeing the drake had been crime enough to call for a verdict of High Treason, Shozo would have been convicted and put to death months ago. He thought bitterly to himself that, if this were a proper kingdom, with a proper king, the Lords of the Land would not have the power to make such convenient decrees.

No one noticed a drab-looking duck perched on the outside sill of the window. She flew away once the two hapless prisoners were dragged downstairs.

* * *

><p>When they were chained in the basement, Shozo was surprised to realize that they could still see each other. He had thought that the master would deny them even that small thing. But the master didn't know how they had been chained. He had given their care over to the same samurai who had replaced Shozo, the man who had taken such cruel pleasure in chaining his predecessor.<p>

That heartless man stood in front of Shozo, grinning viciously. "All you can do is watch," he said. Looking over at Yasuko, he added, "She's pretty enough, for a little kitchen slut."

"No!" shouted Shozo, but the samurai grabbed his jaw in a crushing grip.

"If you make a sound, if you so much as weep too loud, it will go the worse for her," the man threatened softly. "I have a whole week before the other Lords decide if you two can be convicted of High Treason. Plenty of time for her to enjoy my largeness in _every_ part of her." He gave a sinister chuckle, cupping himself suggestively.

"Please," whispered Shozo. "Don't!"

On the other side of the room, Yasuko hadn't heard anything but Shozo's one shout, but she had seen the samurai's considering eyes, and she saw him touch himself. She knew what was coming, and he wouldn't be the first to try to take her against her will. But this time, she was chained and helpless. With a sick feeling in her stomach, she realized that he would likely be the first man to succeed.

Walking over to the wall where the kitchen maid was chained, the samurai stared challengingly at Shozo while he drew his long dagger. He turned his attention to his task and began cutting her clothes away as if peeling an orange, except that he would not leer so at a piece of fruit. All Shozo dared to do was to glare death at the horrible man, who made sure to fondle Yasuko's body as each part of her was bared.

It wasn't long before she was completely exposed, wearing nothing but the tatters of her sleeves still clinging to her arms. She cried out and struggled, but the iron chains were not forgiving. Moving slowly, savoring Yasuko's fear and Shozo's impotent rage, the samurai opened his breeches. Shozo couldn't help it, he let out a cry of despair. The man had not been bragging about his size; in fact, he was so abnormally large that Shozo feared Yasuko would be badly torn open and might even bleed to death down here in this dank basement. Yasuko screamed at the sight of it, begging the samurai not to touch her.

As the samurai preened, enjoying the couple's horrified reactions, the door was pushed open with such force that it bounced off the wall and would have hit the person in the doorway. But the master had slammed many doors open over the years, and the door banged ineffectively against his outstretched fist, moving back toward the wall, but a bit more slowly. Upstairs the master insisted on sliding doors. They were much more aesthetically pleasing, although much more likely to be damaged by his ire, but he had plenty of servants to repair them. But down here the doors were hung on hinges, and were thicker, to muffle sounds somewhat.

The master said nothing, glaring around the room. The samurai faced his master and gave a low bow, showing no shame at being caught with his pants laid open. The master grunted sourly at the samurai, then looked first at Shozo, then Yasuko.

When he did speak, he addressed himself to his samurai warrior. "As deserving of anguish as these two are, this is _not_ appropriate. No person of honor sports with the filth dumped out of a chamber pot, and besides, anyone who touches _either_ of them in such a manner is tainted." His meaning was obvious when he stared pointedly at the samurai's exposed member. "As surely as disease can be passed from loin to loin by such contact, so too can the poison of treason. And I have no doubt that this treason started with her. Shozo once knew his place and was content to stay there, until the matter of that thrice-damned duck." The samurai's face paled as he tried to tuck himself away as quickly as possible. He liked being one of the master's favorites, especially for the power it gave him.

"I am sorry, master," the samurai said hastily. "I only sought to punish them both by this. I did not know – I would not want to catch the poison of treason." He knelt at his master's feet and kissed the hem of the man's robe. "Thank you for saving me from that taint, Master!"

Shozo saw that this man knew his place. This man did not ascribe high ideals and friendship to their master. Shozo had once seen only the best in this Lord of the Land, but even though he supposed he should be grateful to him for stopping this torture, he was disgusted by the man's behavior, and by the cringing and crawling he seemed to want from his servants and retainers. That disgust only deepened when he overheard the master's words as the two men left the basement.

"Send someone down to move one of them to the other room. Make sure they cannot even hear each other. And since you are in need of some release, there is a laundry maid who knows her duty to her master. I've hired a new kitchen girl, who pleases me even better, so you may amuse yourself with the laundry maid."

As the door closed behind them, Shozo could hear the samurai thanking his master, and it sickened him. But then he turned to Yasuko. This might be their last chance to speak in private, and he had not yet spoken the word "love" to her, even though he had long since felt it.

* * *

><p>In spite of the cool evening air, Mike was beginning to break a sweat. He was out on his back porch with his punching bag, but he had spent most of the day wandering. In part he had just been thinking everything over, but he had also hoped to run into Matilda, who had been Muffet in the world that was. Even Mary Margaret would have done in a pinch; both were good listeners, and would give good advice. But he hadn't been able to find either of them. He had seen a large mob once, headed by Doctor Whale. They seemed to be going toward Regina's house, and Mike just watched them pass. He knew it was wrong to let a mob lynch the Evil Queen, but right now he was willing to blame her for all his problems. Even though he hadn't even heard of her until he met Red and Snow, she <em>was<em> the one who had put this Curse on everyone. She was probably also at fault for them not going back.

He had purposely walked away from Regina's house after that. He had no intention of letting his sense of honor save that bitch from what was coming to her. At Matilda's house, he knocked and knocked, but there was no answer, so he started wandering the streets again. He saw people falling into one another's arms, happy to be reunited. Why couldn't he have had the same kind of moment with Eliza? Why had this all turned into another fight?

It hadn't been until nearly dinner time that he realized why his stomach hurt so much. He hadn't eaten anything all day aside from the granola bar he'd grabbed on the way out the door this morning. With the news about Jude, he hadn't had time for a real breakfast. He had found himself wondering if Paige had eaten. But with evening coming on, he had made his way home and pulled out a frozen dinner to microwave. For the first time, he marveled at the conveniences available in this world.

Once he'd eaten, he needed to blow off some steam, so he got out his punching bag and went at it. He kept picturing Gold's face as he punched, or occasionally Regina's. He was hoping that if he worked himself hard enough, his mind would shut down and stop racing. It had been bad enough when it was just Gold's child – Gold was nothing more than a dirty old man who took advantage of people. But now that Mike remembered everything, it was worse. Rumpelstiltskin! How could she have done this to him? Of course, she had only chosen that foul imp once; after that, the Curse was in effect. He couldn't hold her responsible for what she'd done when she didn't even know who she was, although a part of him wanted to.

By the time Mike's arms felt leaden, night had fallen. He stood there for a long moment, breathing heavily. Normally, he would put the punching bag back in the shed when he had finished with it, but tonight he just didn't care. He went inside, stretching out his arms as he went.

But he couldn't just sit around. It was driving him crazy to have nothing to do even for a few short minutes. He pulled on a hoodie and headed out the door.

As he walked away from the duplex, he looked back at it. There were no lights on Paige's side; where could she be? Was she still with Doctor Horne? Mike knew she'd be safe with the good doctor, but what if she had run off to her dirty old man when Mike stormed off like that? He mentally kicked himself. He should have gone back and apologized, or said _something_ to make her not hate him. He knew that Mike had given Paige nothing but heartache, and now that he was himself again, he was certainly not proving that Andrew was the better man. No, he couldn't see any real difference between the two. He had thought, at first, that Mike had been weak and pathetic, but one of his first acts once he was Andrew again had been the exact same thing Mike would have done. So he had to wonder if Mike was really that different from Andrew.

Standing there lost in painful thought, Mike missed seeing the cause of the sudden noise. It had come from toward the center of town. The duplex was just beyond the limits of both the sidewalk and the main grid of streetlights, but even Mike's porch light flickered on and off.

He hastened toward the disturbance.

* * *

><p>Mike stopped when he saw a pretty brunette rushing toward him. He didn't think she had seen him, though; she seemed to be blinded by tears. She didn't look even vaguely familiar to him, which struck him as odd – working at the grocery store, he had seen pretty much everyone in town, at least on occasion. Except her, apparently.<p>

"Hey," he said, grabbing her by the arms. She struggled at first, but more out of surprise than anything else. When she realized that he wasn't trying to harm her, she calmed down.

"Sorry," she said, rubbing at her tear-stained cheeks with her hands. It was hard to tell from that one word, especially since her voice was rough with pain or emotion, but it sounded like she might have an accent.

"What happened back there?" Mike asked. Many of the streetlights where they were at had come back on, but farther up the street it looked like some of them had blown out.

The girl looked behind her, where Mike was pointing. She seemed confused at first. "Oh," she said finally. "There's a – a wraith. Rumpelstiltskin sent it after Regina." This seemed to bring on a fresh bout of tears.

"Are you hurt?" asked Mike. From the way she was behaving, he was afraid she might have hit her head.

"Um, no," she answered. She looked at him like she was wondering why he had even asked that question.

Mike looked around. He didn't see any benches nearby, but across the abandoned-looking street, there was a low wall along the sidewalk. He led her over to it and sat down with her. "I'm Mike – or, well, Andrew, in the other world. Mike was my Curse-name."

"I'm Belle," the girl said. "I – don't know what my name was here. I was – locked up in hospital."

"For twenty-eight years?" Mike was incredulous.

"Yeah. I was just – confused all the time. I didn't know where I was, or why. Or even _who_ I was," she said bleakly. "I didn't know anyone, not even the nurse who took care of me, or the woman who would look in on me sometimes." Belle paused for a moment before adding, "But once the Curse was broken, I remembered – it was Regina. She locked me up."

"Why?" Mike asked. He knew Regina was not the good, kind mayor Mike had seemed to think she was, but even knowing that she was the Evil Queen who had been responsible for much pain, he was surprised that she was cruel enough to lock anyone into an asylum, in what amounted to complete isolation for 28 years.

"I think… I think she wanted to use me as leverage against – the man I love." She wasn't sure why, but something told her not to use her true love's name too freely. She knew others feared and despised him. "But someone came and let me out, just before the Curse broke."

She was silent for a long moment, and finally Mike broke that silence. "Did you – find him? The man you love? I mean, after it broke and you could remember everything. Did you go to him?"

"Yes," she said softly. "And it was wonderful. He was so happy to see me. He had thought I was dead. Because Regina lied to him. But then later, I found out that _he_ lied to _me_, when he promised he wouldn't give in to his hatred. He wants her dead, and I made him promise not to kill her, but – "

"But he went to Gold. Or Rumpelstiltskin, whatever you want to call him." Mike remembered Whale galvanizing the crowd, convincing them that Regina deserved to die a slow, terrible death. He was certain that was who Belle was talking about, unless there had been someone else in the crowd that had clearly been thwarted – perhaps even by Belle herself! Just because he hadn't seen her near Regina's house or among the angry mob didn't mean she hadn't been there, and talked Whale down. He wondered who Whale had been, but he didn't want to ask Belle. She was in too much pain just now.

"S-something like that," Belle stammered. She had heard the raw anger in Mike's voice when he mentioned Rumpelstiltskin, so she was glad she hadn't told him who she was in love with. She could tell that his emotions were fragile enough right now that there was no telling what he might do if he found out, and she had never met him before, so she had no idea what kind of man he might be. "But what about you?" she asked. "Don't you have any loved ones to find?"

For the first time, Mike thought of his brother's family. "Actually, I guess I should find my brother. I – kind of forgot about him. See, I was with my true love when the Curse broke, but here in this world, I – Mike – was always breaking her heart, always telling her he needed more time to figure out what he wanted. And then – when she tried to have an important discussion with me, a rather… uncomfortable one, I acted just like him. I just started another fight."

"What did you fight about?" Belle couldn't help herself; she could see how much pain he was in, and she couldn't stand to see people in pain. She always wanted to help them.

"While we were here, I didn't know who I was, who she had once been to me," he said. "We were betrothed in the world that was, but it wasn't exactly an arranged marriage. She's my one true love, and no amount of fighting will ever change that. But… Well, here in Storybrooke, I only thought of her as a friend for – so long. And even though I knew she loved me, I just tried to ignore it. She ended up… sleeping… with someone else."

"Sleeping?" Belle asked.

"Yeah, here in this world, it's used as a euphemism for…" But he couldn't say it.

"Sex?" she prompted. She was only guessing, but the look on Mike's face told her she was right even before he spoke.

"Yes," Mike said, his voice hoarse. "And I hated it without realizing _why_, and she kept trying to tell me that she would stop seeing the other man if it turned out that I wanted her after all, and I just tried to ignore that, too." He cleared his throat roughly. "Anyway, she ended up pregnant with his child, once the Curse started to weaken and Time started again." He couldn't bear to go into the story he had just learned this morning, about how the pregnancy was merely a side effect of the deal she made with Rumpelstiltskin. "And that means it won't be my child who inherits her throne."

"I'm so sorry," Belle said, and she meant it. Then she realized what he'd said. "_Her_ throne?"

"Yeah, I don't know if you ever heard of the Blueberry Kingdom?" Mike asked.

"Well, yes, my father, he always used to buy their signature wine when it was available, and the blueberry jam – even the blueberries themselves, although they almost never shipped those as far as my father's lands." Belle licked her lips at the memory. "Those berries always made for the very best pies! Better than anything my father's people ever grew. I can't remember the last time I tasted a pie with those blueberries!"

"Well, that kingdom was founded by a queen. She had been cast off, divorced by her king for failing to provide him with sons. So when she took her lands, her "blueberry district," and split off into her own kingdom, she decided that any person can become or do whatever they wish. A woman can be a knight, a man can keep house and tend the children with no shame. As long the person earns it, they can become anything. The king or queen's firstborn is always the heir to the throne, except in rare cases where that child proves unfit. So while her father is technically the ruling king right now, when he passes the scepter, Eliza will take the throne, not I, and not one of her brothers. Because she _has_ proven fit to rule."

"I never knew that." Belle felt a little sad. She almost wished she had been born in that kingdom, but then again, she might never have met Rumpelstiltskin, or might not have been so willing to go with him, in that land where women could rule or be heroes. But as much as he had hurt her, both tonight and in the past, Belle couldn't regret loving Rumpelstiltskin. She couldn't truly wish to change her circumstances so much that she might never have loved him. And when she realized that, she knew she had to go back. She couldn't give up on him, not again.

Lifting her head, Belle asked, "Do you love her? I mean really, truly love her?"

"Yes," Mike whispered, without any hesitation.

"Then you have to fight for her. You have to overcome your own fears and reservations and just _love_ her. Just like I have to. I can't give up on him. And it's not just for them that we have to do this. It's also for _us._" Belle could see that Mike wasn't ready to hear this. She hoped he would remember it when he was ready, or that she would meet him again so she could remind him. "It's not going to be easy, for either of us, but we have to try. If we give up on love this easily, how can we ever be worthy of _being_ loved?"

But Mike surprised her by saying, "You know, all this time, even though we were Cursed, she never gave up on me. Even though she was… with that other man."

"Go to her," Belle said. "Love her. That part _will_ be easy, even though the rest won't."

They stood and parted ways. Belle headed back to the pawnshop, her heart full of hope. She tried to ignore the fear that rose as well.

Mike headed toward Matilda's house. He felt bad about deceiving Belle by letting her believe he was going to Paige, but he just wasn't ready to be around her again so soon. She had not only let Rumpelstiltskin touch her, she had used her body as payment to that foul creature. It sickened him, and right now he couldn't look at her without thinking of that.

* * *

><p>But once again, no amount of pounding on Matilda's door helped. The house was dark, but Mike had hoped it was only that her power was out because of that wraith. Wondering where his friend could be, Mike headed for his brother's house. It was past time; he should have headed over there earlier. He was glad he had met Belle, because he didn't know if he would have thought to go to his brother if he hadn't spoken to her.<p>

* * *

><p>The other Lords of the Land had taken three days to hear out the proposed decree. They said they needed to consider it from all sides, but by the end of the third day, they unanimously supported it. The fourth day was spent in feasting and entertainment for the visiting Lords, and the fifth was taken up by their departures.<p>

But on the fifth evening, the master had his two prisoners brought before him. After he announced that the decree had been accepted, and that the penalty would be death, a hush fell over the household. "These two shall die on the morrow," the master said, speaking sonorously into the quiet air.

Moments later, as Yasuko wept quietly, the gong at the front gate was struck once, twice. After a pause, it was struck thrice in quick succession, then after another pause, it rang once more. Even though it had been many, many years since this land had had a king, everyone knew that this pattern meant royal messengers.

For a long moment, everyone just stared at each other. The master finally shouted for someone to go bring the visitors in. It wasn't until they had been formally announced that the master realized his two prisoners were still in the room. But there was no time to change that, now.

"Good my Lord," said one of the messengers, the taller one. "Although Lord Felix the Hopeful is not yet crowned king, you must be aware that it is only a matter of time."

"Indeed," replied the master. "But if you will excuse me for one moment, I will have these prisoners sent back to their confinement."

"A moment, Lord," said the other servant. Both were swathed in robes and veiled that only their eyes showed. Their genders were impossible to guess. This one's voice was softer, but still androgynous. "Are these the prisoners we have heard of? The ones found guilty of treason against a Lord of the Land?"

"They are the same," the master answered nervously. Had these messengers also heard of his decree? Had the soon-to-be king heard? What would they make of this?

"Then, by the decree recently passed in this region, they are also accused of High Treason against the crown, are they not?"

"Indeed." The master sweated. Did they know that it was he who had invented the idea?

"Lord Felix has also issued a decree, as it happens," continued the second messenger. "He has decreed that anyone accused of any crimes against the crown must be brought to him for trial. And should the accused be convicted, the punishment for those crimes is to be carried out by his newly appointed judicial staff. It is his wish to begin reestablishing a centralized government now."

The first messenger spoke again. "For the time being, this is to take place at the King's Fortress, until Lord Felix has assumed the throne and can designate a more central location. You must send the accused to the Fortress."

"But – that means going through the Forest of Shadows," the master said, his voice shaking. "I cannot send my men in there; they'll never come out again, and I will lose my soldiers! I cannot defend myself – or the land – against bandits if I am without soldiers!" A sly look came over his face. "Perhaps you could escort them, if they are properly restrained?"

The two messengers locked eyes for a very long moment. The master grew ever more nervous. Shozo had no doubt that he and Yasuko would be found just as guilty by Lord Felix's people, but at least this meant they would have a little more time together.

Finally, the taller one spoke. "Send them into the Forest of Shadows at teatime tomorrow. We must spread the word in this region, so we cannot take them now, but we will meet them in the forest. As long as they remain on the path, they will be safe – the old enchantments are still there, but if they are tempted off the path, they will die. They should have their hands bound, in front of them, with rope, and their legs hobbled as well. They'll not be able to move fast enough in irons. As long as they follow the path, they will come to an ancient oak; they should find it by dark. We will meet them there and lead them safely through the forest to whatever fate they deserve."

"And if they escape?" the master asked, barely disguising his anger at the idea that they might get away with their crimes.

"If they leave the path in the forest, even their bones will never be found, but if they make it to the Fortress, perhaps Lord Felix's retainers will decide that their crime was _not_, in fact, High Treason, in which case they will live," answered the shorter messenger. "If they should be foolish enough to think they can find their own path in the trackless forest, their death will doubtless be long and painful. And woe betide them if they follow a Will O' The Wisp, for Wisps are mischievous and delight in getting people hopelessly lost, or bringing them to something that will cause immense trouble. Few have encountered a Wisp without being either killed or tricked into something awful."

The master considered. "And you will meet them at that oak you spoke of?"

"If they are not foolish, then yes, we shall," said the shorter messenger.

"Very well, then," the master said. He tried to press a lavish meal on the messengers, but they insisted that they must make haste, so he gave them food to carry with them, and presented each of them with a small cask of the new Frost Wine.

* * *

><p>Shozo and Yasuko did not want to venture into the Forest of Shadows, especially not tied and hobbled. Even though they would be together, they were still frightened. Yasuko supposed she should be grateful that they were not blindfolded as well.<p>

When Shozo turned and walked backward, she smiled at him. "It is good to see your face, my love." But when he started to pick at the knot over her wrists, she slapped his hand away. "The messengers will meet us. They specified that we be tied this way, and if we cooperate, they might put in a good word for us. You heard them last night; Lord Felix's men might decide we are innocent. We must give them no reason to speak against us."

"As always, you are right, my love," Shozo said, but he did not turn around. He could see that Yasuko was frightened. He folded his hands around hers as best he could.

The forest grew dark before they found the oak. They had accidentally stumbled off the path a time or two, and it terrified them, but they had managed to get back on it pretty quickly. The path went on around the ancient tree, but they waited for the messengers.

After nearly an hour, a strange, silvery beam of light struck into the forest. It illuminated a second path, intersecting the main path right where they stood. The messengers stood on that new path. "This way," one of them said.

Terrified, the two trembling prisoners followed.

* * *

><p>When they reached a clearing in the forest, Shozo was surprised to see that the moon was full, bathing the land in silver. There was a humble little house here, and the messengers led the prisoners inside.<p>

When they removed their veils, Shozo and Yasuko were surprised to see that the messengers, one male and one female, were not young. They were not precisely old, either, but past middle age.

"Please," said man, "make yourselves at home here. There is hot water for washing away your weariness, and tea to soothe you. Supper will be ready shortly."

"Th-thank you," Shozo stuttered. He had not expected Royalist messengers to be so kind.

"Come," the woman said, leading the two frightened servants down the hall. "There is clothing for you, as well. It is neither new nor fashionable, but it is clean, and untorn." Shozo became uncomfortably aware of the air moving against his back.

One of the times when they had lost the path, Shozo had backed right into a thicket of brambles. The sharp thorns didn't seem to have left more than some small scratches, but his shirt was likely beyond repair. Yasuko put her hands behind her back to hide the similar tears in the cuffs of her sleeves. She had torn her sleeves by meticulously picking each bramble out of his shirt, and as he walked behind her now, Shozo felt his face redden in shame. Not shame that she had helped him, but that her hands were badly cut by the brambles. She had hurt herself in untangling him from the bushes, but without voicing a word of pain or complaint. She was a good woman, and deserved better than the death sentence that they both faced.

* * *

><p>After a simple but filling breakfast the next morning, the messengers brought Shozo and Yasuko out to the garden. The woman said, "We thought, perhaps, a game of mahjong before we leave."<p>

The younger couple shared a troubled look; they had somehow almost forgotten that they were under a death sentence. "Yes," Yasuko said. "Although I do not know how to play."

The older woman smiled at her. "Do not worry. We shall teach you."

The garden was small and simple, as befitted the snug little house. Under a cherry tree that was just starting to put out new leaves, a table had been put out, and it was already set for a mahjong game for four.

* * *

><p>Matilda sat on her couch, where she had been all day. She didn't care who was knocking now, and she didn't care who had knocked earlier. When the Curse broke, it brought back all her memories. Everyone she had lost. She had spent the day going through her enormous collection, which had never made sense to her while she was just Matilda. Such an odd conglomeration of things, things that didn't seem to have anything in common. But now, each item brought memories of her past, and the pain that she thought had faded was renewed by each memory. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were swollen. She hadn't bothered to turn on any lights when it got dark; she just sat on her couch, crying as she clutched two beautiful dolls to herself. The knocking would stop soon, and she wasn't really paying attention to it anyway.<p>

* * *

><p>When Belle had told him that she intended to stay, Gold felt like his heart might burst with joy. But there was more to tell her. "There's, ah, something else you need to know, Belle. Something you won't like."<p>

"You can tell me," she said. Her face was so open and caring that he felt it would be cruel to tell it all to her at once.

So he said, "Before, when – when I thought you were dead, there was another woman." He tried to think of how to phrase it delicately, but in a way that she would understand. "We, ah… did things."

"You mean you had sex with her?" Belle asked bluntly.

"Yes, but it was only lust, not love."

"And that's supposed to make it better?" Belle looked at him sternly.

"Well, I… I suppose not," he answered, his heart in his throat.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she said, her face softening, "I hate the thought of you with someone else. Especially since I never got to have that kind of relationship with you. But I don't hate you for having done it. I never could." Part of her was angry about it, but it was true that she didn't hate him for it. "You can't chase me away that easily. I love you."

"Oh, Belle," he said, glad that he had thought to hold back the fact that he had gotten the other woman pregnant. There would be time to discuss that later. "I love you, too, sweetheart." His lips brushed hers for a moment before he hugged her too tightly to be able to kiss her while doing it. He was thrilled when she clung to him just as tightly.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Broken."

The fairy tale introduced here is a Japanese tale (though some websites claim that it is a Chinese tale) called "The Mandarin Ducks." I discovered this tale quite by accident; while at an indoor yard sale this fall, they had a sign saying that all the books were free. So I, of course, rifled through every box, read every title, and came away with two plastic grocery bags full of books. One that I picked up was called "The Tale of the Mandarin Ducks," by Katherine Paterson, and she uses Japanese names and titles for the characters, which is why I have done the same. The only reason I picked it up is because my sister likes ducks, so any time I see a rubber duckie, or any kind of duck paraphernalia, I think of her (like the rubber-duckie-shaped jingle bells I found one Christmas!). So I got the book for her, but when I got home, I decided to read it. And immediately recognized the possibilities, although it wasn't until the first episode of Season 2 came out that I decided this tale would open my first Season 2 chapter… After ABC mimicked the opening scene of their pilot episode, and given that I already had this tale on the back burner, I knew I wanted to do the same.  
>**I do not own any rights to Katherine Paterson's work, nor am I in any way, shape, or form affiliated with the author or the publisher of this book! I have used the names she used for our two servants, in deference to a book that captivated me and introduced me to a wonderful new component for my story.**<p>

A quick note on pronunciation – for the most part, the Japanese names can be simply sounded out, but "Kame" is pronounced "kah-may." I hope the other names are clearer, but if anyone is having trouble, I can go into more detail on the pronunciations for you, just let me know!

When I wrote the scene where Yasuko takes advantage of the party to release the mandarin drake, I found myself thinking of "frost wine." I had once read about how ice wine is produced, and was mistakenly remembering it as "frost." When I went to research frost wine, very little came up about actual wine, except for one site. There is a link in my profile that will take you directly to the webpage that I discovered. Apparently, the Charles Spinetta Winery in Plymouth, CA makes what they call a Frost Wine, wherein Chenin Blanc grapes are "Touched by Jack Frost for two nights…" As I understand it, this is not actually an ice wine, but it is similar. Unfortunately, they do not seem to ship their wines out of state, which means I have not yet had the pleasure of tasting this wine, so I've had to rely on the website's description of it. But the real kicker was the piece of artwork they use on the label for the most recent vintage of this Frost Wine – a pair of mandarin ducks! **I do not own any rights to this Frost Wine, nor am I in any way, shape, or form affiliated with the Charles Spinetta Winery.**

Cascarilla powder (not to be confused with the Cascarilla shrub or its bark) is made from egg shells that have been crushed, ground to a powder. It is used in certain folk magics. Powder dusted on a person's body is said to protect from spirit possession and shield that person from psychic or magical attack, or even general negativity. Also, it can be sprinkled around the perimeter of the home to supposedly create a peaceful environment and/or protect the home from intruders and, once again, negativity. It is also good for drawing runes, sigils, or other symbols in rituals and workings of magic.

I am uncertain as to whether I will be making use of what has been termed "Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tale Land." While I do have one possible idea that might require events to occur there, I'm still very unsure of how that idea is going to pan out, so for now, don't expect to see PAFTL in my story, although that may well change as things progress.

Well, I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!


	23. S2 Ch2 - The Face In The Mask

Here it is, the next chapter!

As usual, I do not own the rights to any of ABCs characters, plotlines, etc, just my own!

**Fixed that one section-break issue, sorry about that!**

* * *

><p>Locke sat in the little guard shack, thinking of Muffet. He was idly toying with the handkerchief she had given him for his birthday. It was as blue as a sapphire, his favorite color. There was an L embroidered in one corner, with stargazer lilies surrounding it. They were Muffet's favorite flower. He smiled down at the tiny stitches. He had long since found a few spots where something had gone just a bit wrong, where she had messed up her pattern, but he would never tell her. It might offend her, or hurt her feelings. She might even make him a new handkerchief, and he liked this one just the way it was.<p>

He tucked the linen square back into his vest pocket. He had removed his coat; it was a warm spring evening. His guard post was on the opposite side of the village as the Thornwood, so his view was unobstructed. The land sloped gently downward from here, and was nothing but rolling fields and farmland as far as he could see. Most of the farms had a pond or a spring that fed one of the several streams that meandered their way downhill to the river, which was several miles away, and not really in sight from the village proper.

May Day was only a month away. Muffet was in one of the guard posts on the other side of the village, facing the Thornwood. He knew she was expecting him to ask for her ribbon, and he intended to. But he couldn't decide how to phrase it.

"Muffet, I love you. May I have – no, that sounds dumb. Muffet, you are the love of my life, and I would be the happiest man alive if – no! That's too sentimental and syrupy." He swallowed, thinking frantically. "By the gods, it shouldn't be this hard!" he exclaimed aloud. He closed his eyes. "But what should I say? I don't want to sound like every other man out there." With a heavy sigh, he lapsed into near-silence, still muttering to himself occasionally, trying out different ways to ask the most important question of his life.

Twilight was just deepening to true darkness when Locke's father came with some bread and cheese for him, and a small flask of water. "So, what are you going to say to her, boy, come the day?" his father asked, as if he knew what his son had been worrying about.

Locke blushed. "I don't know yet, Papa. I just don't want her to think I'm nervous."

His father laughed. "Trust me boy, she'll know. But ten to one, these girls are all just as nervous as we men get when we _ask_ for that ribbon. Just don't expect her to admit as much. 'Tisn't what's important, though. What's important is that she'll understand how much courage it takes to ask, out in front of the whole village like that. Not that most of them can hear you, anyway, but everyone'll be watching, mark my words."

Clearing his throat, Locke said uncertainly, "Thanks, Papa. I'm sure I feel much better about it now." Truth be told, he hadn't even considered the fact that anyone not involved in the Maying Ceremony would be watching, waiting to see which of the girls put her red ribbon around her young man's neck.

Laughing, Locke's father clapped his son on the back and strode away, still chuckling to himself. Locke watched suspiciously, wondering if the man was trying to make him even more nervous.

But the meal, simple though it was, seemed delicious tonight. In only one month, he would be engaged. Tradition required that an engagement last at least until the end of the harvest, although a full year was preferred. Many weddings happened in the spring, although there were some cases where it was necessary for a couple to marry in a hurry.

That was not the case with Muffet's cousin, Betsy. She and Hiram, a good friend of Locke's, were to be wed only a few days before May Day, and Locke and Muffet would be standing with the groom and the bride, respectively. These days, it was only a formality, but the original traditions had been decidedly odd. The bride's maids had once been there to protect her against demons, which supposedly loved to possess a young bride at her wedding. And the groom's men had once stood with their friend to fight off the bride's male relations if they decided to object. It was strange how traditions began, sometimes.

Suddenly, a chilling howl rose, far too close. That sounded like it was in the village itself! If Wolfs _were_ attacking, and if they had gotten into the village, where was Muffet? Why had the warning not been given? Without a thought for his coat, Locke rushed out of the guard shack.

* * *

><p>Locke neither knew nor cared how he had gotten all the way across the village without having to fight a single Wolf. He had taken every back way that he knew, just trying to get around the fighting happening throughout town. He had once glimpsed the mayor, who should have looked ridiculous wielding a sword in his nightshirt, but the fierce expression on his face made Locke feel ashamed. There was a small boy behind the mayor, clutching a toy sword carved out of wood and crying for his mother. When Locke saw the mayor again later, the man had several more children behind him. The older ones were armed with sticks or training weapons or whatever they could find, and they stood in a circle around the younger ones, ready to fight if the mayor fell. Locke knew he should help, knew that someone needed to get those children to safety, but all he could think about was Muffet. Was she already dead?<p>

A few times, Locke hid when he saw a Wolf or two, trying to sniff out more prey. But fires had gotten started in some places, perhaps by lamps or lanterns that had been knocked over or dropped, and the acrid smoke disguised his scent. There were a few places where he had to cross broad streets; he tried to watch carefully, to make sure no Wolfs would see him. Once, he tripped over something lying in the roadway, and nearly cried out when he saw that it was Hiram, with his stomach torn out. Scrambling for the cover of the buildings, Locke vomited right into Widow Ruth's begonias. As soon as he saw what he'd done, he looked around, as if he expected the cantankerous old woman to come rushing out of her house, swatting at him with her broom while screaming about the damage he might have done to her flowers. But then he saw her – or rather, her arm. A Wolf must have bitten it clean off; he knew it was hers because there was a broom still clutched in her stiff, wrinkled hand. He didn't want to think about where the rest of her might be.

For a long moment, then, he had hidden under her porch and tried not to weep out loud. How could this be happening? Why had no one given the alarm? And where, where was his beloved?

* * *

><p>Paige woke up with a jerk. She had been having a strange dream, where she had been searching through her father's castle, only that castle had been right on Main Street here in Storybrooke. She knew, because she had looked out a window and saw Emma's yellow Beetle driving by, headed for the sheriff's office. Even in the dream, she hadn't known what it was she was seeking, only that she would know it when she saw it.<p>

Then, the next thing she knew, Gold had been there, and now the pawn shop was nestled up against the wall of the castle's inner keep. Gold had taken her into the stables and shooed the grooms away before laying her down on the hay and opening her bodice – but then it had changed, and she was out in her mother's favorite spot in the woods, near where Aenor had grown up. Once again, Gold was there, and had laid her down on the banks of the stream. In both dreams, she had worn dresses that laced up the front of her torso, and in the one by the stream, he had unlaced her bodice with his teeth.

There were others, too – once in the small, seldom-used parlor in the lonely manor house where she and her brothers had hidden, and in her own favorite clearing, the one where she had first kissed Andrew. Gold had laid her down and bared her breasts, and sometimes other parts also, in almost every place she had known well in her other life. But every time, the dream changed just when it started getting good. He would kiss her, or touch her, or start to use his tongue between her legs, and then everything would be different.

Now that she was awake, her whole body ached for him. But she didn't dare text him, or go over to his house. Mike might find out, and it was too soon to assume that he no longer wanted anything to do with her. Maybe, just maybe, he would get over his initial anger and they could work things out. But… she wanted sex so bad, it almost hurt.

Suddenly, she remembered that Gold had given her a vibrator. She had "accidentally" left it at his place that night, but he had made sure to bring it to her. The only time she had used it had been that night, with him watching. Even just thinking of that now made her blush. Using a sex toy seemed dirty, especially the idea of doing it by herself. At least when she was with him, she could use the excuse that she was helping him get aroused again so they could continue their fun.

But she finally got out of bed and dug into the back of her underwear drawer, where she'd hidden the thing after he had dropped it off. She didn't know if she would ever have sex with Mr. Gold again, so this might be her only option for now.

* * *

><p>When Matilda woke up, she didn't know where she was at first. By degrees, she realized she was in her own house, in Storybrooke. She was slumped against the arm of her couch, feeling stiff. There was a crick in her neck. She looked around for something without quite knowing what, and when she swung her feet to the floor, she kicked something.<p>

Looking down, she saw the two dolls on the floor. She gasped, scrambling off the couch to kneel on the floor. She inspected the dolls closely, but they didn't seem to be damaged. She sighed in relief as she clutched them to her bosom. Then she took them back to the large display case built against nearly an entire wall in her living room and put them back on the middle of the top shelf, where they belonged.

She looked over the other various items in the case, and it didn't hurt as much today. Some were more painful than others, of course, but the most painful thing to look at was the large empty spot in the very center. But maybe here, in this strange world where that awful Curse had brought them, she could finally find what she needed – that perfect thing to commemorate Locke, her one true love. Nothing had ever seemed right in the Enchanted Forest, but who knew what unusual things this new world could offer?

Suddenly, she thought of a man she had met here in Storybrooke, that Caleb Johnson, who owned the herb and remedy shop. Something about the shape of his nose tickled her memory. She was sure she had known him in the other world, but her mind was playing tricks on her and she couldn't place him. After all, she had only seen the man twice in this world, and that was during a time when her business had really picked up. She had seen a lot of new faces right around then; and they had become kind of a blur.

Without even considering breakfast, she ran a brush through her hair, threw on her jacket, and headed out the door.

* * *

><p>Just when Locke had almost reached the little guard shack where Muffet should have been standing watch, he felt a huge, hairy paw hit the side of his head. It didn't knock him out, but he fell to the ground, dazed. He could feel the Wolf's hot breath on his back as it bit into his shirt, dragging him around to the other side of the guard shack. As he was yanked past the door, which was hanging open, he saw her cushion perched on the edge of the bench inside, as if she had jumped to her feet suddenly. There was a bowl lying on the floor, with curds and whey spilled across the floorboards of the little shack. Tears pricked at his eyes. The spoon had been dropped just outside the door; he saw it glint as it briefly reflected the flames of a nearby house.<p>

He wondered what could have happened to Muffet. Had she seen the Wolfs coming and rushed into to town, to warn everyone, and to fight with them? Was she lying in some roadway like Hiram, partially eaten? Or had she perhaps gathered some people and gotten to one of the shelters? But given how sudden the attack was, and since those children had been out in the street rather than safely in hiding, Locke sincerely doubted that _anyone_ was safe. None of the adults would cower in their shelters when children were in danger. Children were the future of the village.

Suddenly, he realized that the Wolf had dragged him into a circle of other Wolfs, who sat around a group of frightened villagers. Locke scanned every face, but Muffet was not there. But his little sister Leola was, and when the Wolf shoved Locke into the tight knot of people, she grabbed him. She wept something barely coherent about their Mama and Papa, but given the haunted expression on her face, Locke understood. Their parents were dead. He wept into his sister's hair, wishing she didn't have to witness that. She was only 7, and her long brown hair was almost blonde. Locke stroked that hair, wondering if she would have the chance to find out if her hair would get darker as she grew older, like his had. Leola shivered, and Locke wished he had not left his coat behind. He would have wrapped it around her to keep her warm.

Looking around at all the terrified faces again, Locke realized that nearly a quarter of the villagers had been gathered here. Surely they could defeat the dozen or so Wolfs that were watching them. Then Locke looked at the Wolfs. He had never seen one up close before, and the intelligence in their cold, foreign eyes chilled him. They almost seemed to be thinking, _Go on, humans. Run. We would _love_ to chase you down!_

He didn't know if that was ascribing too much intelligence to these frightful creatures, but after one glimpse of that seeming dare in their gaze, he knew it was hopeless. Even if he _could_ work up the courage to fight, or to run, he doubted everyone here would follow his example.

Locke was suddenly aware of the relative silence in the village. The sounds of screaming had died down. And two more Wolfs came awkwardly toward the circle, dragging a body between them. At first, Locke thought the woman was dead, but just as she was brought between two of the guard Wolfs, her eyes fluttered open. But when she saw what was happening, a high keening noise came out of her mouth before she passed out again.

It was Jocelyn. She had come of age with Muffet, but he knew that Muffet had never much liked this girl. And once she had gotten herself in scandalous condition, everyone in the town seemed to agree. But Jocelyn had not been married suddenly; she had been the only girl from Muffet's Maying to remain uncourted. She would not tell who had gotten her with child, which made the scandal even worse. Those inclined to gossip whispered that it must be a married man, or perhaps a passing peddler. Locke had heard his own mother whisper that maybe the girl herself didn't know, and once that idea got around the village, the unfriendly stares had doubled, and her own family had disowned her.

But there was no point in wasting the energy to be petty or spiteful just now. Even though Locke felt the same disdain for her that many others did, he caught her as the two struggling Wolfs half-flung, half-shoved her into the tight knot of people. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped some sweat and dirt from Jocelyn's forehead. If Muffet were still alive, and if he ever found her again, surely she would forgive him for using it on a girl she despised, given their imminent death.

As he tucked the handkerchief back into the breast pocket of his vest, a bone-chilling howl rose from the village, and it seemed to be some kind of signal. The guard-Wolfs stood and snarled at their captives. The Wolfs closest to the woods swung outward to leave one end of the circle open, making a sort of Wolfish corridor leading toward the Thornwood. Then the Wolfs at the closed end of the corridor began to advance, snarling and growling to frighten the villagers into motion. Anyone that fell too far behind was snapped at by a pair of fearsome jaws.

Fortunately, Jocelyn woke up and, finding herself among humans again, was able to hurry along with everyone else. She clung to Locke, though, leaning on him heavily at times. If it hadn't been for Leola on his other side, he and the very pregnant woman might have fallen, and no one seemed to want to find out what would happen to anyone that fell. Anyone who stumbled was steadied by every hand that could reach, regardless of personal feelings involved. Locke saw several people helping someone they bore a grudge against.

Everyone seemed to be dragging their feet, or slipping about as if it were muddy. Locke noticed that they were leaving very strange tracks, with little to indicate that they were being allowed to walk at all. Then he shook his head and called himself nine kinds of idiot for wasting time worrying about whether someone would be able to figure out what had happened and follow them, to rescue them. He knew it was stupid to think like that, because as much as he wanted to hope, he strongly suspected that everyone else in the village was dead.

But Jocelyn was the only pregnant woman in the group that had been captured, and she was quite close to her time. She and Locke and Leola, all supporting one another, had fallen just a bit behind everyone else. Suddenly, Jocelyn's fingers dug into Locke's flesh as she whimpered, "Not now!" She paused and took one hand back to press it to her belly, grunting as a contraction started.

When she fell to her knees, a Wolf leaped toward her, growling and snapping at her. Locke put himself between her and the angry creature, but it swiped savagely at him. Its claws left gashes across his chest – they weren't deep, but they bled profusely. Locke fell to the ground, Leola grabbing at his arm and trying to pull him to his feet. A few of the men in the group had come back and picked Jocelyn up, carrying her as the Wolfs herded them onward. As Locke staggered along behind, leaning on his sister for support, he barely noticed that they were entering the Thornwood, and neither of them saw his handkerchief lying on the dirt, covered now in his blood.

* * *

><p>Paige sat in her kitchen. The sun was only just starting to rise; she hadn't been able to get back to sleep after those strange dreams that left her feeling so unsatisfied. As she had once admitted to Mr. Gold, she had never been able to bring herself to orgasm, but that vibrator certainly did the trick. She blushed; the whole time she was using it, the only thing she had been able to think of was his face as he'd watched her pleasure herself that night at his house. She shook her head, trying to clear away the embarrassing thoughts.<p>

Mike had been gone by the time she came home last night. She had spent yesterday with Dr. Horne, who must have noticed how upset she was, but he hadn't mentioned a thing. The doctor had talked, with Paige writing notes, and they spent some time sitting by her father's bedside, sharing fond memories of the world that she feared they might never see again. Dr. Horne had read her notes aloud so her father would at least hear her thoughts, if not her voice. She had heard that coma patients could sometimes hear the voices of people around them, but since this sleep was magically induced, she didn't know if that held true. She didn't know if this was an actual sleeping curse or some other kind of spell, but if it _was_ a sleeping curse, she was afraid he might never awaken. It generally required true love's kiss to break something like that, and he would not see his true love again in this lifetime.

They had dealt swiftly with Marsha, because Paige was still too angry to actually pass sentence. For the time being, the witch was locked into a plain, yet comfortable, patient room at Greensmountain Heights. There were actually several rooms that had been unoccupied, which had been a constant source of worry for Horne. If he didn't keep a certain number of patients, he could lose his city assistance fund. Now, of course, that had all changed, but no one yet knew if this change would be for better or for worse.

She had still been at the facility when the disturbance happened in town. The power flickered on and off for several moments, but eventually came back on and stayed that way. One of the nurses who was scheduled for the night shift had rushed in, saying that a wraith had been loosed on the town, and according to what she had heard, it was out for Regina's soul. Paige had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, Regina was evil, and had brought them to this world where the six princes seemed to have gone missing. Paige didn't know if she would ever see them again. But on the other hand, did anyone truly _deserve_ to have their soul ripped out of their body? To be damned like that?

But she worried about Mike, and what might have happened at the duplex, so she had insisted on going home. The good doctor tried to talk her out of it, but she even refused his offer to walk her there, writing a note telling him that he had his patients and staff to take care of. When she arrived, however, Mike's side of the house was dark, and the porch light was on, suggesting that he had gone out somewhere. Paige wished she knew where. Had he gone off somewhere with Mark? She didn't worry about them together anymore; Andrew was not interested in men like that. But there was still a part of her that was quite jealous at the thought that he would go to Mark at a time like this.

Paige shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. That had all been last night; maybe he had come home late, after she had fallen asleep. She dressed and went across the porch, but no amount of knocking drew any response. Mike's car was in the driveway, as it had been last night, so wherever he was, he had walked there.

As she walked back to her front door, she looked toward Main Street to see if she could spot any signs of the disturbance. Had the wraith gotten Regina? Or had someone found a way to defeat it? Paige wasn't even sure a wraith _could_ be defeated. She wanted to go into town to find out, but she didn't want to seem like just another curiosity seeker.

But then she remembered – she had been meaning to make a large pot of cauliflower soup and freeze some of it, so she would have some quick meals for herself later on. As her pregnancy progressed, it might become harder, or at least more tedious, to try to cook for herself, and there might well be times when she needed an easy option. But now there were people who would need it more, and all the ingredients were already in her kitchen.

* * *

><p>Matilda was amazed at the damage in town. When she found out what had caused it, she couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed a thing. But after all, it <em>had<em> been a rough night for her. Johnson's shop was closed, so she made her way around the side, where there was a stairway to a small porch for the apartment above the shop. Feeling incredibly nervous for reasons she couldn't explain, she rang the doorbell.

* * *

><p>It was actually a little after noon when Paige was finally ready to leave. She had tried texting Mike, but he hadn't answered yet, so she got out her key for the shed outside. She knew there was a wheel barrow in there, and there was no way she could carry the heavy, hot pot of soup to who knew where. She would try outside the municipal building first, unless she saw or heard anything on the way there that would point to relief efforts elsewhere.<p>

She put several blankets in the wheelbarrow to make a nest for the pot, which would also help to keep it warm. She added all of her meal-sized bowls, a double-handful of spoons, a large ladle, and two loaves of homemade bread she'd had in the freezer. While the soup had been cooking, she had sliced the bread and put it back into the large freezer bags it had been stored in.

Looking at her load critically, she added some of her larger bowls as well. The pot of soup had rubber bands looped from the handle on the lid to the handles on the sides of the pot to keep it closed, but Paige had also wrapped some plastic wrap around the sides of the pot and up over the lid, just in case.

* * *

><p>Despite having stopped to rest several times, Paige was breathing hard by the time she got to the municipal building. Sure enough, Ruby and Granny were doing their best to help people. Ruby rushed over when she saw Paige. "Oh, no, did the Wraith hit your house?"<p>

Paige shook her head no and pulled the top blanket aside. Granny had come over by this time and took one look into the wheelbarrow before taking Paige in her arms. "Oh, bless your heart, Paige," Granny exclaimed. "Everyone who had to leave their homes are being offered cots in the school. We'll have someone set you up a table and anyone who's hungry can come and get some soup."

Pulling out her phone, Paige texted Ruby.

"Granny," Ruby said, "in the Enchanted Forest, she was Eliza. Princess of the Blueberry kingdom."

"Oh my stars!" Granny exclaimed. "I always bought your brandy when it was available," she added.

Paige ducked her head shyly and signed, **Thank you**.

"Oh, Billy!" Ruby called out, seeing the young man wandering around. He seemed unsure of what to do. "Can you take Paige, or Eliza, really. Can you take her to the school and find a table to set up for her? And maybe you could help her hand out the soup? Oh, and, um, she's mute, but if you give her your cell phone number she can text you, that's how she and I talk."

"Sure," Billy said, grinning at Ruby almost uncertainly. But Ruby and Granny had both turned away to help a large group of people that had just arrived. Paige's heart ached at all the scared faces in the crowd. Some of them had made up posters, looking for people they had lost. Others just looked lost, and she knew that at least some of them were having a hard time reconciling the two lives they held in their heads. She'd had 28 years of that already, and she wasn't sure if there was any relief in sight.

Paige was startled when Billy took the handles of the wheelbarrow. When he smiled politely, she smiled back. "It smells good," he said as they headed for the school.

* * *

><p>The concept that Wolfs could be capable of planning and executing such an organized attack no longer seemed strange to Locke. But he was in shock and no longer able to think rationally; at this point, if his sister suddenly sprouted wings and flew away to safety, it wouldn't seem odd at all. It would only be a relief.<p>

The villagers had been herded half the night, through the Thornwood, across the narrow end of a glade, and on into the Wolfswood itself. When they arrived at the Wolfs' den, they were forced into a sparsely-wooded area filled with cubs, from what looked like newborns to gangly young Wolfs that must have been just a bit too young to accompany the adults on this hunt.

There were less than a dozen grown Wolfs that had stayed behind to watch over the cubs, and when they licked their chops, many of the villagers tried to turn and run. But their grim escort had doubled, and the humans had no chance.

Locke, at the back of the group with his sister Leola, tried not to watch as the Wolf cubs and their keepers started to feed, but everywhere he looked, someone he knew was screaming. When a half-grown cub leaped onto Leola, Locke screamed. He reached out, intending to pull the creature off of her, but one of the guard-Wolfs knocked him aside. Locke just lay where he fell, weeping aloud. He curled up in a tight ball, his head buried in his arms. The screams seemed to burn into his ears, but he knew that he could do nothing to help any of the other humans. He could do nothing but wait to die.

* * *

><p>Locke didn't know how long he had been lying there. It was still dark, but the moon was almost full, so he had plenty of light. He realized that the Wolfs' den had grown silent. The gruesome sounds of the Wolfs feeding, the screams of the villagers – he couldn't even hear anything moving around. The lack of sound seemed just as loud, and just as ominous, as the screams had been. But when had the screaming stopped?<p>

His arms and legs hurt as he uncurled his body. He tried to stand, his limbs trembling. He fell twice, landing on things that rolled and squished unpleasantly. There was a meaty smell, and an outhouse smell, and the combination made him feel sick. When he looked around, he saw that he was surrounded by the gruesome remains of the Wolfs' feeding frenzy.

Locke vomited noisily, and tried to scramble away, but even though he had been at the back, it seemed that some of the villagers had tried to make a break for it, taking their chances with the guard-Wolfs, but it didn't look like they had made it. The results had left him almost in the middle of all the carnage. Locke was almost grateful for the full moon; its silvery light robbed the world of bright colors, so the blood was not red, but black like water could sometimes be under the moonlight.

He couldn't help himself, he had to know. Every corpse had to be checked, just in case anyone had survived their injuries. Locke gave a crazed, high-pitched giggle. Imagine thinking of being eaten as a mere injury! As he moved among the slaughtered humans, trying not to step on anyone, his hands patted and prodded at his own body. The only wounds he could find were those claw marks across his chest.

When he reached for his vest pocket for his handkerchief, he found nothing – not the handkerchief, and not the pocket. Just a blood-soaked gash in his vest. The claw marks were hot to the touch. Infected. That wasn't good.

He didn't even realize that he had been keeping count in his head until he had checked every body. They were all there, all dead. Not one had made it past the guard-Wolfs. There had even been one extra in his count – Jocelyn must have had her baby before she was killed. But even the babe hadn't been spared, so why was he still alive?

He was crying, and sometimes the sobs sounded more like bizarre laughter. Looking around the Wolfish nursery, he saw that the cubs and their keepers were all still there, lying about. All of the cubs were asleep, and some of the adults as well. Staggering over to the nearest watchful Wolf, Locke fell to his knees in front of it. "Here I am," he said, his voice hoarse. "Kill me! Eat me, like everyone else!" He had begun shouting, which woke several of the nearby cubs. But they merely eyed him disinterestedly and rolled over. A few sighed heavily, as if annoyed by the ruckus. "I don't want to remember this! Kill me, foul beast! Kill me, please!" Locke collapsed, weeping. The Wolf simply got up and turned around, settling down again in the same spot, but with its back to Locke. The anguished young man realized that the entire pack must be sated.

With nothing else to do, he shuffled away from the Wolfs' den, doing his best in the moonlight to follow the tracks back to the village. Maybe, just maybe, there would be at least one other person alive.

* * *

><p>When Johnson answered his door, Matilda felt a swell of disappointment. She couldn't think why his nose had seemed so familiar, unless it was the profile of it. That was all she had been able to see under that silly cowl he had worn in the other world, and was now wearing again.<p>

Johnson motioned her inside; the door opened onto his small kitchen. Through an archway, she could see a somewhat larger room that was probably meant as a combination living room and dining area, but from what she could see, the man hadn't bothered with a dining table, just a tiny table with a single chair here in the kitchen.

"Muffet," he greeted, and she couldn't tell if he was pleased to see her or not.

"Teacher," she whispered. Her face had fallen.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, his voice scornful.

"Nothing," answered Matilda, regaining her composure. "I just thought – something impossible." She had thought, wildly, of Locke. But he was dead. She had known it couldn't be him, not really, but there had been a tiny spark of hope that she couldn't suppress, and finding out that this man was Teacher instead was very disappointing. To avoid any further questions, she said, "I see you got rid of that awful hobo beard you had in this world."

Johnson smirked. Matilda could tell from the way the snug cowl shifted across his face; he had made fun of her often enough that she had noticed that his cowl always moved the same way. How she hated that smirky attitude.

"Why is it that you think you're so much better than me?" she asked, not trying to hide her irritation.

Again that shifting of black fabric. "Personality flaw, perhaps," he said, sounding amused. He was definitely mocking her again. "Or maybe… I just _am_ better. After all, _you're_ the one who came to _me_ to learn to wield that monstrosity you call an axe."

"Oh, forget I said anything," Matilda snapped, disgusted.

Johnson laughed outright this time. "Oh, you are ever the same, girl. Although I must say, it seems strange to see you without your precious monstrosity. Wherever did you leave it?"

Matilda's jaw was set in sullen lines. "I don't know where it is. It should have been in my house, it was in my hand when that horrid Curse swept me away, but it's not. I searched everywhere." She hesitated for a moment. "I don't suppose… you've seen it? Here in Storybrooke, I mean?"

His voice amused, Johnson said, "I'm afraid not, Little Miss Muffet."

Matilda's face went still. Teacher had never called her that before; no one had called her that since Rumpelstiltskin, when she traded Locke's handkerchief for the axe. She had tried to shut his filthy mouth, but a creature like that imp was much too powerful for the likes of her. But her Teacher, on the other hand…

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and, without taking her eyes from his, she snatched up a frying pan that had been laid out on a dish towel to dry. "Never call me that again," she said, her voice low and threatening, "or I _will_ kill you."

Johnson's eyes widened, but there was no tell-tale shifting of the cowl, so he wasn't smirking now. "Interesting," he said. "If I'd known something so simple would get such a violent response, I'd have tried that during your training. You very well _might_ have unmasked me then."

The only thing that stopped Matilda from bashing his head in here and now was the fact that his voice was very matter-of-fact, with no hint of mocking. "You would do well to remember that I have spent the last four years killing Wolfs, honing my skills. I am battle-hardened now, Teacher. You no longer know what I am or am not capable of."

"Ah, but as I understood it, your first two years were the more… productive. About two years ago, you all-but stopped your vendetta, and I have always wondered why," he mused.

Matilda's face darkened. "That is _my_ business, and mine alone." Dropping the frying pan on the floor, she flung open the door. But she paused long enough to force herself to say, "If you should learn the whereabouts of my axe, I would appreciate it if you would let me know. And if you're still so interested in my personal choices, I would be more inclined to share if you came bearing news of my axe, or even better, the axe itself."

She almost gave a civilized farewell, but aside from the fact that she was furious at the man, he was also not exactly civilized anyway. Giving him one last hard stare, Matilda stepped out of his apartment and slammed the door behind herself.

* * *

><p>Muffet had checked all of the houses in the village before following the strange tracks leading toward the Thornwood. No one in town had reached their shelters. Even in the houses that were burning; she had checked them all. She stopped near the edge of the woods; she wasn't about to go back in there, not after last night. The sun had risen while she searched, and just as she turned back to the village, a small spot of something bright blue caught her eye. When she investigated, it turned out to be the handkerchief she had made for Locke – and it was nearly covered in blood! She didn't know why the Wolfs would drag people off like this, but she knew it couldn't be good. There seemed little chance that they had been allowed to live, not with all the Wolf prints spread thickly around and over the villagers' tracks. But there was more work to do. The farms all had to be checked. If even one person had survived this attack, she wanted to know, to find them. She really just wanted to not be alone.<p>

* * *

><p>Just after noon, Locke finally found his way home. Several of the houses were burning, and when he got into the streets, the bodies were still just lying there. No one had come to take care of the dead, but maybe they were still hiding in their shelters. He started methodically checking every one, even the ones in the burning houses. In his own house, which had not caught fire, Locke found his parents. They had opened the hidden door to their shelter, but it still stood open now. He assumed that they had been trying to get Leola to safety when they were caught by surprise. There were also two partially-eaten Wolf corpses by the door, so at least they had not gone down without a fight. He wept when he saw that one of those Wolfs was still impaled with the slender, yet strong short-spear he had made for his little sister. At only seven years of age, she had killed a Wolf, but it hadn't been enough. It hadn't been enough for anyone.<p>

* * *

><p>By mid-afternoon, Muffet had checked everywhere. Everyone was dead. No one had made it to their shelters. Eventually, something would have to be done for the rest of the bodies, but for now, all Muffet had done was to set her papa's house on fire. They usually buried their dead, but it was not unheard of to burn a body; some people actually preferred that idea to the thought of their corpse being dropped into the cold ground. The burnt ruins of the house would serve as a grave for her Mama, her Papa, and for dear Betsy. And that was what she planned to do for everyone else, too. Anyone who had been killed outside would be dragged into a nearby home, which she would then burn down. She knew that digging graves, or even digging a mass grave, was beyond her. Not just physically, but emotionally. This would be the only way she could honor her people.<p>

She was in her papa's cow pasture, where even the cows had been killed and eaten. She kept walking until she could no longer see her house, and even the nearest cow carcass was several paces distant. Stumbling down a small hill, she collapsed by the stream, weeping. Before the sun had even set, she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

* * *

><p>It was late in the afternoon, and Locke had checked all the farms, saving Muffet's for last. He didn't want to find her like he had the mayor and all those poor children. He had stopped for a long time there, crying. He knew it was his fault. If he had helped, he was sure that he and the mayor together could have gotten the children to safety. But he had left the mayor on his own, and they had all been eaten.<p>

When he approached the farmhouse, he saw that it was on fire. He rushed over, rushed inside – but the bodies in there had already been burnt beyond recognition. Three of the six bodies looked like Wolfs, from their sheer size and from their unique physical features, like their backwards-bent legs. But the other three were most likely Muffet's parents and her cousin Betsy.

Locke barely made it out of the burning house before the roof collapsed. By the barn, he found a new plow-tip that hadn't been attached to a plow yet. He carried it back to the house and stuck the end of it into the flames until it glowed red. Even though he took off his shirt and vest and wrapped the fabric around his hand, the plow-tip was almost too hot to hold. The sun was setting as he used the red-hot metal to re-open his wounds. This should burn out the infection. He cried out, but as quietly as he could. Part of him was trying to be stoic about it, but another part of him felt like he deserved the pain for abandoning his people.

When he was done, he raided the family's herb garden and made his way back into town. He would need supplies, and he certainly couldn't get everything he needed here.

* * *

><p>Just after sundown, Muffet stirred in her sleep, a stiffled cry of pain making its way into her nightmares. But though she shifted and dropped the stiff handkerchief, she did not wake.<p>

* * *

><p>His house already seemed like a strange place. Locke grabbed a large, shapeless bag, which he filled with anything he thought he might need. He shoved all of his spare shirts and breeches in, but no vests and only one coat. He grabbed a frying pan and a small pot from his mama's kitchen, and every roll of bandage in the cupboard. He used some of the herbs he had gathered at Muffet's house and poulticed his wounds, then used some thin paper to parcel up the rest of the herbs. But no amount of rearranging would make the two blankets fit, so he rolled them up and tied them with twine, leaving loops that could go over his shoulders. The clothes would eventually wear out, leaving room for the blankets someday. He hardly cared, as long as he had everything he might need.<p>

When he looked around his room again, he saw the blown-glass vase that still held a bouquet of dried stargazer lilies. He grabbed a pillowcase and wrapped the vase very carefully. He would find someplace safe to hide it, and if he had to move on from wherever he wandered, he would take it out of hiding and find a new place to keep it when he could stop for awhile. The brittle lilies would likely fall apart soon, but if he had the chance, he would get some fresh ones.

* * *

><p>When Matilda made her way to the municipal building, she found people in a panic. They had recently learned that they would truly become their Storybrooke selves if they crossed the town line, and no one knew what to do. David was supposed to be making a plan, but how could one man fix all this? Especially since his wife and daughter had disappeared with the wraith last night. Matilda hoped he was okay. She knew how it felt to lose someone.<p>

* * *

><p>When Regina came and took Henry, with still no sign of David, Matilda began to wonder. Was her Storybrooke self all that bad? True, she had those memories of her family dying in a horrific car accident, but that had to be better than her real memories. Other people were talking about leaving, about not wanting to be stuck with two lives in their heads. When several people swept outside to go home and gather their belongings, Matilda went with them.<p>

* * *

><p>Paige, off to one side of the room, watched the people leave. She had to find Mike. They <em>had<em> to stop everyone from leaving, and without speaking, she couldn't do it alone. If anyone left, it could completely demoralize those who stayed, and Paige was certain that there had to be some way of going back. It was just a matter of finding out how, but who knew which person's talents might be needed? What if someone who left town was the key to going home? Also, what if someone she knew and loved tried to leave? She would lose that person forever, and she would do everything she could to keep that from happening.

The only place she could think of searching was either with Mark or with Noah, Mike's brother. Neither had been in this crowd, but Noah's house was closest, so Paige headed there first, walking as fast as she could.

* * *

><p>When Noah told her she had just missed Mike, Paige started for Mark's place, but met the young man along the way. She pulled out a piece of paper and simply wrote Mike's name with a question mark, but it turned out that Mark had not seen him since before the Curse was broken. Not knowing what else to do, Paige started walking down the road, heading for the sign that marked the boundary of Storybrooke.<p>

* * *

><p>Locke went still as he sniffed the air like a wild animal. Something was strange here. Behind him, Rumpelstiltskin lounged on a fallen tree, leaning back against a large branch that now stuck nearly straight up in the air. The air was chilly, but not yet overly cold. Rumpelstiltskin watched the young man's head turn sharply as he tried to figure out what he was sensing.<p>

"You seem tense, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin mocked as he carefully folded the sapphire-blue corner into the blood-soaked handkerchief. It wouldn't do for the young man to see it and wonder how his own property had come into Rumpelstiltskin's possession. It might give him hope, hope that would keep him from making a deal today. He giggled slightly as he tucked the carefully-folded square of linen away; that silly girl had given him the key to her one true love! Of course, she thought he was dead, but still, the very thought amused Rumpelstiltskin.

Locke whirled. As soon as he saw the impish figure on the tree, he crouched warily. "What are you? What do you want?"

Putting a hand to his chest as his mouth opened in seeming affront, Rumpelstiltskin said, "What? What, what? Well, really, _what_ sort of question is that? I am not a what, you know. I am… Rumpelstiltskin! And as to what I want, well, I think the real question here is, what do _you_ want, dearie?" He regarded Locke with a knowing look that the young man didn't like.

Locke growled, his face darkening in anger. "I want nothing from you," he snarled.

"Look at you," Rumpelstiltskin chortled. "Already more than half-way to becoming just like those half-breed Wolfs that ruined your life." He gave a small giggle, as if he knew some secret or other.

Growling again, Locke leaped forward, landing on the fallen tree and crouching all in one smooth motion. He put one knee on the tree, next to Rumpelstiltskin's thigh, but his other leg was supported still on the ball of his foot, next to the impish man's opposite knee. Straddling the imp, Locke stared into Rumpelstiltskin's face from mere inches away. When he spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "I am _nothing_ like them," he said, his voice soft and threatening.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "Ooh, we've already lost all sense of personal boundaries, haven't we?" His voice was as casual as if he and Locke were sitting down to tea, although it held more than a hint of mockery. He lowered his voice as if telling a secret. "Not a very civilized way to behave, dearie!"

Locke spoke softly. "You have nothing I want or need. _Dearie,_" he added, intentionally mocking Rumpelstiltskin.

The imp's eyes glittered dangerously. "Don't think I can't see what you're trying to do," Rumpelstiltskin said. "No, if you continue to make me angry, I'll not kill you. I'm not that nice," he gloated. "If I get angry with you, I very well might decide to curse you with life everlasting. Yes," he mused, "that would be the punishment for you. No wound, no illness could kill you – you will live forever with your guilt, and those so-tragic memories." Rumpelstiltskin gave a low chuckle. "Do not cross me, dearie. Besides," he added, changing the subject, "I came to help you, and you treat me thus?"

Locke scrambled back so he was on all fours in front of Rumpelstiltskin, perched on the tree as comfortable as any wild animal in his element. "What do you mean?" He looked wary, ready to flee.

"Fear not," proclaimed Rumpelstiltskin, "for I can remove your pain! All _you_ have to is sign on the dotted line!" A parchment appeared in his hand, rolling out toward Locke.

But Locke kept his gaze on Rumpelstiltskin. "What must I do?"

"Well, 'tis simple," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "You will no longer have to face those troublesome memories, and in return, you will do what_ever_ I require of you." He smirked at the look on Locke's face. "Oh, and it, ah, won't just be the bad memories you'll forget. Being that selective could potentially damage your mind permanently, so I'll have to make you forget _everything._ You won't know where you came from, or who you were, and you won't remember anyone from your current life, however you felt about them. Even _love_ will be wiped from your mind," Rumpelstiltskin said.

Locke just sat there, gaping for a long moment. Rumpelstiltskin goaded him, "Well? Do you wish to be relieved of your memories of that carnage or not?"

"How – how long would I be your slave?" Locke's mouth twisted in distaste at the word slave.

"Oh, you'll live as you like, dearie, but should I make a request of you, or should _any_ person make a request in my name, you must honor it. You won't remember the _why_, of course, but you will know that this is how it must be," the impish man said. "Also, since this will wipe all your memories, other things will take their place. Skills you never had before, ideals and personality traits that might sicken you if only you could remember who you once were. Also, you will be required to keep your face covered at all times, that none will know your face."

Locke thought it sounded like he would be doing Rumpelstiltskin's dirty work if the imp didn't want anyone to remember Locke's face. It never occurred to him that it might be to keep anyone from recognizing him.

"And can I assume that, once again, I'll not know why I'm doing it? That I'll just do it out of some instinct?" The impish little man nodded. Locke just shook his head; he couldn't believe that he was actually considering this! He would lose all memory of Muffet, his beloved! True, she was dead like everyone else, but did he want to forget her completely? "Will I ever remember? Or will you use me indefinitely? You would only be wiping out eighteen years of memories, after all."

"Well, then, I suppose we could make arrangements for that. Let's say, I'll use you for the next eighteen years, and then, your memories will begin to resurface. At that time, you can decide for yourself if you'd like your memory loss to be… permanent." Rumpelstiltskin giggled.

"I just ask one thing." Locke knew that he wouldn't know why, but he couldn't bear to leave it all behind. "There is… a vase. Blown-glass. I keep it hidden."

"Yes, yes," Rumpelstiltskin said impatiently. "What of it?"

"I don't care that I won't remember why, but I want to keep taking it with me. I want that to be the one thing I will not move on without." He didn't ask to remember the lilies, but he knew that when he finally did start to remember, he would want to put some in that vase again, and if he didn't keep it near him, it might get broken, or stolen, or lost.

"Hmm," mused the imp. "Yes, that can be arranged." But he could sense that Locke was still rather hesitant to give up all of his memories. Holding out the amended contract, Rumpelstiltskin asked, "So, dearie… Deal? Or no deal?"

Locke took the quill. After a last moment of hesitation, he signed Rumpelstiltskin's contract.

* * *

><p>Mike had gone to check Matilda's house again. When he got there, he found her packing up her work truck. He had to physically stop her before she would answer him in more than a monosyllable. Once she had explained the situation, he couldn't believe that she would just leave everything behind like this.<p>

"I won't let you do it," Mike said.

"You can't stop me," Matilda answered. "It's none of your business."

Mike grabbed her keys as she turned away. She wasn't paying enough attention, so it was easy.

"Give those back," she said, her voice low.

"Not until you come to your senses, Mat," he said.

Matilda sighed. "You know, my name isn't Mat, not really."

"Oh, isn't it? You're the one running away to _be_ Mat."

She gritted her teeth. "And it's my choice, Andrew!"

It was Mike's turn to sigh. "You're right," he said, dropping her keys into her outstretched hand. "I just never thought you were such a coward."

Turning back from the truck, Matilda asked, "And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means I _thought_ you had the guts to act like a grown woman and stay here, and learn to move forward with your life. But I guess the minute things get too hard, you're just going to run away with your tail between your legs, like a frightened Wolf." Mike's voice was hard, making his disgust with her very clear. He turned to walk away.

"It's not like that," Matilda insisted. "I'm not like them!"

"If you run away and take the easy way out, then yes, you are." Mike didn't turn to look at her. "So go. And I know you won't remember once you've left town, but I hope to the gods that you never come back. I don't want to see you again, not like that."

Matilda stood there for a long moment. Mike heard her keys hit the ground and he finally turned. Taking her in his arms, he said, "I'm sorry I said that, but I know you're not that much of a coward."

"You're right," Matilda said, her voice muffled as she wept against Mike's chest.

After a long moment, she stepped back. "Where's your princess, Andrew? I've always wanted to meet her."

Mike paled. "I… don't know. She texted me earlier, asked for help, but I didn't answer. What if… what if she thinks I hate her? What if she leaves town?"

"Well, don't just stand there," Matilda said. "Get in the truck!"

Grabbing the keys off the ground, Matilda jumped into the driver's seat, barely waiting for Mike to close the passenger door before putting the truck in gear.

* * *

><p>When they saw Paige along the roadside, walking slowly but determinedly, Matilda stopped the truck. Mike jumped out. "Eliza! Please, don't do it!"<p>

Paige gave him a funny look. **Do what? **But before Mike could answer, she realized what he meant. **Wait, you thought I was leaving town? Why would I do that? Who would save my brothers if I abandoned them?**

"You mean… you're not…. You don't hate me?" Mike was so relieved that he sagged against the side of the truck.

**No! I searched for you, but your brother said I had just missed you.**

"Why were you looking for me?" Mike wondered if she had thought that _he_ might leave town, but he didn't want to ask so bluntly.

Paige gave him a flat look. **Because I can't speak, which means I need your help to keep everyone else from leaving.** The look in her eyes made it clear that she knew what he had really meant, and that she refused to acknowledge the unspoken question.

Mike gave her a wry grin. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?" He helped her up into the truck and climbed in after her. Paige slid over on the bench seat to give him room, but stayed close enough that her side was against Mike. When he smiled gently and put an arm around her, Paige rested her head on his shoulder. Part of her felt content, but another part was wary, just waiting for him to hurt her again.

* * *

><p>When they saw the other cars all stopped on the road, they drove as close as they could. By the time Matilda put the truck in park, they could see the gathered crowd, but not why the people had stopped.<p>

Mike and Paige rushed up to the people, and saw David blocking the road. He seemed to be making some kind of speech, and people seemed to be listening. Paige wondered what he had already said.

"Just like you," David was saying. "_You_ are both. The _town_ is both. _We _are both! Stay here, and _every_ choice is open to you." It was exactly the kind of thing Paige would have said, if she had gotten here in time. Well, she thought wryly, what Mike would have interpreted for her, at any rate.

Paige smiled as he continued. The people were calming down as David suggested that they re-open their business. She hoped he knew what he was getting himself into when he promised to protect everyone, though. On the way here, Matilda had told her two passengers about Emma and Mary Margaret. A man obsessed with finding his wife and daughter might choose them over his other duties. She and her father had certainly chosen her brothers over the kingdom itself, and she was still ashamed of that.

David continued, "She won't be able to hurt any of us, not as long as I'm alive. Not as long as we all come together! As we did before – as we _shall _do again!"

As they listened, Paige felt Mike's hand in hers. Tears pricked her eyes. Not only had David talked the people down, convinced them to stay, but he had also given her hope. Hope that someday, somehow, everything would be alright again. Her prince would love her as he had before, she would save her brothers and be reunited with her father, and she would become a great queen. Although she had hoped these things in the past, this was the first time that the hope hadn't seemed like a burden, weighing her down with expectations she might never be able to meet. She didn't know if it was just David's powerful speech, or if it had something to do with the Curse having been broken, but suddenly, hope was a good thing again.

* * *

><p>When the scrawny girl first arrived, the man thought about simply leaving. But as he turned away, she said, "Rumpelstiltskin sent me." The man froze. Why did he suddenly feel beholden to this sniveling rag doll? But… he <em>was<em> familiar with the name she had spoken. Perhaps he didn't want to know why he felt the urge to heed a request made in Rumpelstiltskin's name. Perhaps it was too awful to know. So he put the matter out of his mind entirely.

"What is it you want, girl?" His voice was rough, and he could feel the cowl moving against his face. Although he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't worn the cowl, it still seemed strange somehow to have this snug cloth over his face.

"He said… he said you could teach me how to use this," she said, planting the butt of her enormous battle axe on the ground in front of her, a little off to one side. She handled it easily, but rather inexpertly. She was clearly stronger than she looked.

"Yes," he said, bemused. He knew how to wield a weapon like that? It came as something of a surprise to realize it. "Bring that monstrosity of yours over here, rag doll."

A spark of anger flashed in her eyes. "My name if Muffet, not girl or rag doll!"

The man laughed. "If you say so, girl. But if you went to… _him_, you clearly want to learn how to wield that thing pretty badly. I have to wonder what sort of price a scrawny little thing like you could possibly pay a creature like that. But if you have any objections to how I treat you, you can leave the way you came. _I'm_ not holding you here, little one." His voice was derisive. When he turned, he was surprised to find a battle axe of his own leaning against a tree. It was nothing like the girl's; the haft was no longer than that of a blacksmith's hammer, and it had only a single blade, with a wicked-looking spike on the tip of the haft. It reminded him of that hero, the one some said actually was a blacksmith before he picked up the axe that had made him famous. Then the man paused. He could remember the stories of that hero, but not where he had learned them.

Once again, there was nothing to do but forget his doubts, his questions. The girl hadn't left, and in fact had brought her axe closer to him as he had requested. "What… what should I call _you_, teacher?"

With a disdainful snort, the man said, "Call me what you like, I care not."

She clearly felt that he was mocking her again, because she answered, "How about Jackass? That seems like a good name for you."

The man shrugged. He didn't know his name, and now that he had realized that he seemed to owe something to Rumpelstiltskin, he no longer questioned that fact. It was simply the way things were right now. Without a word, he took the long-handled axe from her and examined it closely.

* * *

><p>Paige wasn't sure why it seemed so strange to be out in the garden behind the duplex. She was alone in the garden, sitting on a lovely wrought-iron bench beneath a matching arched arbor. She could remember the day she added this to Mike's family's garden. It was her own touch, something from her parents' house that had been in storage while she lived with Mr. Gold. Even though she knew that all these memories weren't really real, they were fond ones. Her mother had grown roses at the base of the arch, so that they twined into the arch and surrounded anyone who sat on the bench with the sweet smell of roses.<p>

When she had asked, Mike had seemed glad to let her put her own mark on the garden. His mother had never planted roses for some reason, and he had enjoyed sitting there with her on late-summer evenings, with the delightful scent hanging in the air as they watched the sun set. Of course, it had always been platonic, no matter that she had wanted more. She had always been afraid of losing Mike if she pushed too far too fast, so she hadn't really pushed at all.

She was barefoot, in a black tank top and a long, flowing skirt of patterned blue. Her eyes closed as she breathed deep, enjoying the heady scent. When she opened her eyes again, Mr. Gold was standing nearby, watching her. Paige felt her breath quicken at the smirk on his mouth. It wasn't until he started walking toward her that she realized that he was walking perfectly, without his cane. Now she knew what had been bothering her before – it was the wrong time of year for the roses to be in bloom.

Mr. Gold stopped in front of her, leering down at her. Paige eyed his body from head to toe; without the cane, he even stood differently. "But crazy things always happen in dreams," she murmured to herself. When she met his eyes again, she licked her lips, almost nervously.

"What was that, dove?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, smiling. "I just thought that a dream was supposed to change as soon as you _realized_ it was a dream." And since this was, in fact, a dream, it was perfectly okay for her to speak out loud. It made a refreshing change, really.

Gold smirked and countered, "Well, _I've_ heard that when you realize you're dreaming, you can take control of the dream. It's called lucid dreaming, I believe." His tone was amused.

Paige smiled up at him. "Well, then, if I'm supposed to be in control now, I know what _I_ want." Reaching out, she unzipped his pants and freed him from his boxers. As she had expected, he was already hard. She took her time with it, savoring the feel of his length in her mouth. She let the tension in his body build slowly, leaving him panting and moaning her name.

For the first time, she felt comfortable doing something she had once wanted to try – she teased and tantalized him until he said, "Please, Paige! Please!"

She pulled her mouth off of him to say, "Please what, Mr. Gold?" Her tone was a mockery of innocence, as if she couldn't imagine what he was asking for. But he had done something similar to her that night in the bathtub, after the storm and that awful fight with Mike. It seemed so long ago now.

Gold looked down at her, his eyes full of dark promise. She could see that she would pay for this later. She just hoped that there was a later; her other dreams of Gold had been most unsatisfactory. His voice rough, Gold said, "Make me come, dove. Please!"

Giving him a seductive smile, Paige took him into her mouth again, and it wasn't long before he was crying out in ecstasy. Once he was done, she looked up at him, her eyes thoughtful. "Since this is a dream, does that mean you can be ready again right away?"

"If that's what you want, dove," he replied. He reached out and touched her breasts, fondling them a bit before lifting them out of her bra and tank top. He positioned them so that they were sort of propped on the now-empty bra cups, which gave them a boost that they wouldn't have if he had simply stripped her naked. He caressed her thigh through the thin fabric of the skirt, and when he brought his hand away, he was holding her panties. Paige looked shocked, and Gold repeated her own words to her, teasing her. "Crazy things always happen in dreams, dove."

He took her hands and pulled her up so that she was standing in front of him, but not quite touching him. Then he slowly worked her skirt up until the hem was finally level with her waist and pulled her in close. She could feel him pressed against her bare skin, hard and ready, and she gave a trembling sigh. When his lips found hers, she responded passionately to the kiss, squirming in his arms to rub her nipples against his suit jacket.

After a long kiss, he pulled away and spun her to face the bench. He guided her until she was kneeling on the bench, with her hands on the back of it to steady herself. But he didn't enter her like she expected; instead, he took his turn to tease her. He caressed her bare bottom, her thighs, and even reached around to knead her breasts and pinch her nipples. When she felt she could stand no more, she felt his finger against the sweet spot, but only for a moment – nowhere near long enough. He trailed his fingers to her opening and teased her there for a few moments before brushing against her sweet spot again. She knew that this was her price for making him beg. She knew he wanted her to beg for it now, but aside from knowing he wouldn't want this to be over too soon, she also wondered if she could hold out long enough to outlast him.

Suddenly she felt his tongue on the sweet spot, but again, for only a moment. He kissed one cheek of her behind before opening his mouth and biting down, slowly, gently. She cried out as he bit a little harder, and it wasn't in protest. He wasn't biting as hard as he had in the world that was. Moving his lips to the back of that same thigh, he bit her there, then repeated the two bites on the other side. As he bit her for the fourth time, he also stroked one finger briefly against that sensitive nub. "Oh, god!" she cried.

He was still biting her thigh, and she could feel his lips curve into a smile. When he released her flesh, he flicked his tongue over her sweet spot again, and Paige could take no more. "Please, Mr. Gold, inside me! I want you inside me, please!" That last word came out almost as a wail, which embarrassed her a bit.

"How do you want it, dove?" asked Gold, pressing the tip of himself against her opening, but not entering yet. "Do you want it slow?" He suited action to words, pushing just the tip into her so slowly that she whimpered, wanting more. "Or fast?" Once again, he did what he was describing and suddenly shoved all the way into her.

"Yes!" she cried out. "Please, Mr. Gold, fast! Yes!"

"As you wish dove," he said, smirking.

At this pace, it didn't take long for either of them to orgasm, and as they came, Paige shouted his name. "Oh, Mr. Gold!" It was followed by a long, wordless cry of pure pleasure.

As Paige's body was still spasming, Gold kissed her neck and said, "God, Paige, that was wonderful."

* * *

><p>Paige woke suddenly. She was surprised to realize that she had actually had an orgasm in her sleep. She hadn't even known that was possible. There had been other dreams of Mr. Gold, but those dreams had left her feeling frustrated and horny when she woke. This one had felt… different, somehow, although it might have been nothing more than the surprise of waking up to the aftershocks of an orgasm. But before she could work things out in her mind, she fell back to sleep, and if she dreamed again, she did not remember it.<p>

* * *

><p>Quite early the next morning, while Belle was still asleep in her room, Gold left in his car. He made one quick stop before driving to the sign that marked the town limits. For a long time, he stood staring across that accursed line. Even though he had remembered the truth all along, he still had the Curse's memories in his head. He knew what his life here was supposed to have been like. He could remember helping to scour the woods for the lost girl, the one who had screamed when she saw him. He remembered Paige living with him, and even had memories of when and how he had first started having sex with his ward in this world. In truth, their… "relationship" had gone on for nearly the entire 28 years they had spent waiting for the savior. All along he had known who he was, and what he needed to do, but he also knew that this new curse would affect him. He would become something he had never truly been – plain old Mr. Gold. There would be no more Rumpelstiltskin, no more magic. He doubted he would even believe in magic if he stepped over that damned line. He wouldn't remember Belle, or his son. But Bae was out there, somewhere. He <em>had <em>to find his son! There had to be a way. He just had to find it.

* * *

><p>When the alarm woke her the next morning, Paige got up and went about the motions of a normal morning. It wasn't until she was leaving her house that she remembered. She never had to clean up in the pawn shop again. The Curse had been broken. She stared at her door, not really seeing it. Her hand still hung in the air, frozen in the middle of raising the key to the deadbolt lock.<p>

She shook herself, and suddenly noticed the large manila envelope lying at her feet, not directly in front of the door, but close by. It said simply, "To Paige" with no indication of who had left it there, but Paige thought it looked like Mr. Gold's handwriting. What could he possibly have sent her, and why? Moving slowly, Paige picked the envelope up. She unlocked the door and went inside, turning the thick envelope in her hands. There was nothing written on the other side.

There were several legal-seeming papers inside, and as she rifled through them, not really trying to read them, one caught her eye. It was a deed! A deed to a sizeable tract of land that was apparently considered a rental commercial property. The names of the current renters meant nothing to her, but when she looked a little closer, she noticed that the former owner of this property had been Gold himself! Why on earth would he give her a property?

Her faced paled. Had that dream been more than what it seemed? Was Gold able to manipulate her dreams so that he could still have his way with her? It was the only reason she could come up with. Although it seemed impossible, it would certainly explain that odd feel to the dream, and the fact that she had orgasmed in her sleep like that. And it would explain why Gold felt the need to give her something.

She had to see him. Not bothering to change out of the dress shirt and slacks she had put on before remembering that she didn't need to go to work today, she grabbed her keys and rushed back out the door.

* * *

><p>As she went up Gold's walk, Paige heard what sounded like a woman humming around the side of the house. Surprised and curious, she walked through the grass and edged up to the corner of the house.<p>

Peering around the side of Mr. Gold's house, she saw a pretty brunette arranging some rugs on a sturdy clothesline she had strung up. The woman was, indeed, humming as she worked. Paige almost laughed when the woman picked up an old badminton racket, slightly bent. She could remember, however false it was, having tripped over that thing a few years ago, bending it.

The woman had barely started beating the dust out of the rugs when Gold came outside. "Belle?" he called, then smiled when he saw her. Paige felt her mouth drop open. Even though he hadn't said so, she had gotten the impression that Belle had died after Rumpelstiltskin had chosen something else over his love.

"Belle," Gold said, his voice both fond and a bit scolding. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm cleaning up after you," she said. Although Belle was facing away from Paige, she could hear the teasing smile in the woman's voice.

"You don't have to do that," he replied. "Not anymore."

"It's okay, Rumple, I want to," Belle said. "Besides, isn't this what you had hired me for in the other world?"

Smirking, Gold said, "I'm not sure I would call it 'hired,' Belle."

"Well, it sounds a lot nicer than 'enslaved,'" Belle retorted, and something about her tone and cadence made Paige think of Rumpelstiltskin. From that, and from the way Gold smiled and shook his head in wry amusement, this exchange meant something special to them, reminded them of their past together.

"Oh, Belle," Gold said softly, taking her in his arms.

Paige licked her lips and pulled her head back around the corner. She wasn't sure if Gold had seen her or not, but she wasn't sure she cared just now. He had Belle back. She was afraid that he might decide that he no longer wanted to spend time with her anymore, for any reason, that he no longer needed a mute girl for companionship. The thought hurt far more than she had expected. She knew she wasn't in love with Gold, but she had come to care for him as a friend. She didn't think she could bear being cut out of his life.

She heard him murmur something to Belle, something that almost sounded like, "I'll be right back," and she panicked. She ran all the way home, never once looking back.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "We Are Both."

I would like to let you all know that I am going to be starting a cross-over fic soon, which will combine Once Upon A Time with Star Wars, and I will also be adding a few of the characters in this story. This cross-over will be 100% non-cannon for all three elements! It also will not be an ongoing thing, like To Carry On, but I'm not sure yet how many chapters it will be. It is only for amusement, based on a comment from my sister that, since Disney now has the rights to Star Wars, that makes Leia a Disney princess - so might we ever see her in Storybrooke? And then the idea for a cross-over fic was born... Not sure how soon I'll have it out, and I may decide to write the whole thing and release it all at once... We'll see! And I'll make sure I work parallel, so that it won't put too much of a delay on this story...

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and PLEASE review!


	24. S2 Ch3 - Honeybee

As usual, I only own the characters that spring from my own imagination.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"I really think this could be profitable, Norman," Liam argued.<p>

"We're farmers," Norah replied. "Not bee-keepers. Do you even know how to tend the hives?"

Liam glanced down. "Well, not really. My father kept bees and made a living on their honey, and the beeswax for candles. I remember going out into the meadow with him, but I was very young." Blushing slightly, the handsome young man admitted, "I was more interested in running and playing than in my father's bees, at the time. And then when he died, my mother sold the meadow, beehives and all."

Norah fought the urge to put a hand on Liam's arm. "I understand wanting to follow in your father's footsteps, I really do, Liam."

"But?" Liam prompted when his employer let the pause grow too long.

Norah sighed. "But I'm not willing to take a risk like that." When Liam's face fell, she added, "It would be different if you _knew_ what you were about. I am sorry, but it's much too soon to take such a leap. We're doing well enough right now, but not so well that we can risk adding another venture. There are stills debts to be erased. If the profits keep growing, maybe in a few years, then."

"But Norman," Liam protested, "no one else around here has bees! All the honey has to be brought in by peddlers and traveling merchants. Think of the money we could make! We can afford to sell it for cheaper than a merchant can, and who knows, perhaps they'll even want to buy it and sell it in the region. The shorter the distance peddlers and merchants must carry their wares, the less they can charge and still profit, so that they can beat their competition. We can do this!" He nearly went down on his knees and groveled, but he doubted Norman would change his mind for that.

"But what if you're wrong? What if there is a very good reason that no one in this area harvests honey? We might have the wrong climate, or the wrong kinds of vegetation for a good crop of honey, and then where would we be?" Norah wanted to let Liam try; not only might he be right about the profits, but he was clearly very passionate about this. But this could also put her whole farm at risk, so she didn't dare. "And besides, with no other beekeepers in the area, there's no demand for the necessary equipment. We would have to either make it ourselves and hope that it's good enough, or else pay to have it shipped in from the gods know where."

Liam's head dropped, and he sighed sadly. "You're right, of course. I apologize; I have a tendency to let my passions carry away my common sense." He smiled ruefully at Norman. "You know, I'm very glad I met you. If I were off on my own, the gods alone know what kind of state my purse might be in."

Norah chuckled. "Well, no man can see what might have been, right?" That got a more genuine smile from Liam, and Norah added, "Ask me again in a few years, Liam, provided, of course, you're still with us." She bit her lip; she certainly hoped he would stay. She liked Liam; he somehow made the farm seem like a brighter place. She still felt as if she had something important to do with her life, something that she couldn't accomplish out here on the farm, but she didn't mind that quite so much now that Liam had arrived. "I make no promises, but if we're still doing well, I will reconsider."

Liam gave her a mischievous smirk. "I'll hold you to that, Norman!"

* * *

><p>Wiping the sweat from his brow, Liam glared at the young man who was taking refuge at the farm. Norman had brought Robert home almost three weeks ago, now. At first, Liam had felt sorry for that haunted young man, but now it seemed like he had become Norman's favorite person. Even when all the men were out in the fields, those two seemed to have their heads together, laughing at some private joke.<p>

But it hadn't even been three weeks yet; how could they have private jokes? Liam rather hoped that the other men were right somehow, that Robert was Norman's long-lost twin brother. That certainly would explain their near-instant camaraderie. But why did he feel like this? Why did he get so upset when he saw Norman spending time with Robert? Liam had never thought of himself as a jealous friend, but he started to remember something the men had told him when he first started.

Apparently, Norman was usually more withdrawn with new hires, but with Liam, Norman had been open and friendly, and they had talked often. Perhaps because of this, Liam had assumed that Norman liked him better than the other farmhands. _And now that Robert seems to be the favorite, maybe I'm just jealous, afraid that Norman doesn't want to be friends any longer._ He shook his head. This was silly.

Liam's three-pronged aerator dug viciously into the sod, perhaps a bit too forcefully. If Norman wanted to act like this new guy was his best friend, it wasn't any of Liam's business. Even though Robert didn't seem like the type to stay on here at the farm. Liam knew he had no right to pry into Norman's personal life. Even though this new "friend" was likely to up and disappear one day. None of Liam's business. But why did he want to protect Norman? Why should Liam care if Robert _did_ run off and leave Norman hurt and alone?

* * *

><p>Paige was still catching her breath when her phone went off. When a glance showed that she had a new text from Mr. Gold, she paled. He <em>must<em> have seen her peeking around the corner of his house a little while ago. What would he say? She felt like a stalker; she should have just minded her own business and rung the doorbell like a normal person.

When she hit the button to view the message, Gold had texted, [I need to see you, Paige. I'll be waiting outside of Greensmountain Heights in ten minutes.]

She swallowed. She wasn't sure she wanted to face this right now, not before she'd had time to get used to the idea that he had Belle back in his life. But her phone went off again. [If you can't make it, let me know. Otherwise, I will show up at your house, and I don't know how your young man would take that.]

There was a part of her that wanted to cry. He had a point; Mike wouldn't like it one bit if he saw Mr. Gold coming to visit her. She still wasn't sure where things stood with her true love; in her more recent experience, yesterday's tenderness could blow up in her face at any time. And now that all the rules, laws, and regulations of this world were no longer so important, she rather doubted that she needed a legal guardian, so Gold had no legitimate reason to stop by.

Shaking herself, Paige hit the button to reply. [I'm on my way, be there soon] she texted. She thought about writing Mike a note, telling him where she'd gone, but then he might simply head over to the facility to find her. If he had to text first to ask where she was, she and Gold would have some warning, so they could make sure they weren't caught together. She certainly hoped that Gold would care about that; his second text seemed to imply that he was at least making the attempt to not annoy Mike deliberately. But with Mr. Gold, what he seemed to mean and what he really meant were often very different things.

* * *

><p>Coming into the facility's driveway, Paige stopped and swallowed. Gold was sitting on the same bench where she and Andrew had fought just after the Curse was broken.<p>

When she sat down next to him, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you need something this morning, dove? I saw you outside my house." His voice was non-committal, but Paige thought she sensed more amusement in him than irritation, which was a relief.

**I just – that envelope... why did you give me a property? **Paige couldn't bring herself to ask the question that was really burning in her mind.

"Ah, that," Gold replied. "Have you been to see your new property yet?" His eyes were alight with humor; he knew exactly what Paige wanted to know, and he enjoyed watching her squirm with embarrassment.

Paige blinked. The question was unexpected and it threw her for a second. **Well, no**, she signed.

"Ah, well in that case, it cannae be that something is wrong with the property," he said, pretending to be relieved. "So what did you need, then, Paige?" He couldn't hide his smirk any longer, and he knew that she had sensed his amusement, anyway.

Swallowing, Paige signed, **Last night... was that... real?**

"Whatever do you mean, dove?" His grin was almost feral as he watched Paige's blush deepen.

**That dream**, she explained. **With you. Under the rose arbor? Was it real?**

"Why, Paige, did you have lewd dreams of me last night?" Gold pretended to be shocked at the idea. He was having fun with this.

**Why else would you give me a property, unless it was real? **Paige couldn't meet his eyes, even though she knew he was toying with her.

"Aside from the gift I left you, what makes you think your, ah, tawdry dream was real?" He loved the look on her face right now.

**I...** She swallowed. **It didn't feel like a regular dream. And I've had... other dreams. Of you. Last night was the first time that it was one solid sequence, and not all disjointed**.

When Paige paused, clearly feeling awkward, Gold interjected, "So last night wasn't your first naughty dream of me?"

Paige felt like her face had caught fire. **Well, no. But the other dreams – left me feeling... frustrated. Last night I...** She paused, and it grew. She couldn't make herself say it.

"What has you looking so _very_ ashamed, dove?" Gold asked, smirking.

**I... I came in my sleep... from that dream...** Paige felt so embarrassed to admit it. She huddled in on herself in a vain attempt to hide.

His smirk deepening, Gold said, "So did I, dove. Twice."

Startled, Paige blinked up at him. **So... it really was real?**

"After a fashion," he explained. "The sensations are real enough, since our minds are stimulated, but even if I bit you hard enough that it would leave a mark if we were truly together, when it's one of these dreams, you won't find even a hint of redness on your body after you waken."

**I'm… I'm sorry,** Paige signed.

"What on earth for?" Gold couldn't imagine why she felt _she_ needed to apologize. Given her temper, he had half-way expected her to demand an apology from _him_.

Her face was bright red. **For how I… made you… beg. In the dream.** At Gold's raised eyebrows, Paige hastened to add, **I didn't know it was real, or I never would have done it!**

Mr. Gold couldn't help himself; he laughed. Paige seemed startled, but when his laughter continued, she started to look a little irritated.

**What's so funny? **she signed, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Oh, dove," he said, still chuckling a bit. "Last night was fantastic just the way it was. And I certainly enjoyed giving you your just desserts for your treatment of me." He cupped her chin in one hand, running his thumb across her lower lip. His expression said he was remembering how she had used that mouth on him just last night. "And though you may not believe me, I actually enjoyed seeing you take charge of your own desires like that." As he expected, he saw Paige's doubt in her eyes. "You've been wanting to try that for some time now, haven't you, dove?"

Paige drew in a surprised breath. How could he have known that?

But Gold ignored her reaction, releasing her chin and saying "Perhaps if I rephrase it, you'll believe me. I truly enjoyed seeing the pure _lust_ in your eyes. You don't often look at me that way, not without some measure of embarrassment, and it was… gratifying."

And he was right; phrased that way, Paige found it much more convincing. It still surprised her that he wasn't angry, but then again, he did like having that ego of his stroked. Paige blushed as that little voice in the back of her head added, _Yeah, his ego… and other parts. _She wondered how she could possibly respond to his comment. But before she could figure that out, Gold levered himself up with his cane.

"Well, Paige, it's been a lovely conversation, but I do have other obligations. I believe it is safe to assume that you do not intend to return to your job in my shop?" After a glance at Paige's face, he continued. "I thought as much." He sighed. "Well, then, I suppose I'll have to make other arrangements." He turned to walk away, but then turned back as if just remembering to add, "And by the way, dove, you really _should_ go inspect that property I've given you."

* * *

><p>It was early in the morning, about an hour before Barlow's wife would start making breakfast, but for some reason, Liam couldn't sleep. So he had gone outside to stack the firewood that had been laid out to season in the sun. It should be ready by now, and he needed something to do.<p>

He was thinking about Norman. The young man had seldom gone out drinking with the farmhands before Robert had come to the farm, but after Robert left as suddenly as he had arrived, Norman went out with the rest of the men at least twice a week.

Norman hadn't been the same since Robert left. At first he had seemed genuinely happy, but after a few months passed, Norman had become moody. That was when he started going into the town with the men for a pint of ale. And last night, not only had Norman been drinking with the men, but he had stayed in town to keep drinking after everyone else headed back to the farm.

It had to be that Robert's fault. Norman must have pretended everything was fine for the first few months, but he could hide his hurt no longer. Liam wondered if there was anything he could do for his friend, but even with Robert gone, Norman hadn't been as friendly to Liam as usual.

Suddenly, the door to the farmhouse opened. The bunkhouse was some distance away, but close enough that Liam could tell it was not Norman coming outside. It was that pretty brunette from the tavern! Her hair was in disarray, and she was adjusting the laces on her bodice as she pushed the door shut with her hip. Liam just stared, shocked. There were some green ribbons sticking out of a pocket sewn into her skirt.

She pumped some water into the stone basin that stood under the pump and splashed some of it on her face. Then she knelt next to the basin and began running her fingers through her hair, working out the tangles that somehow had not diminished her good looks in the slightest. When the water was mostly stilled, she examined her reflection, using it to help her tie the ribbons into her hair. With a vexed look, she checked her pocket again, then examined the ground between the farmhouse door and the pump. She looked up at the house consideringly, then shook her head and went back to the stone basin. She rinsed the dirt off her bare feet and dried them with her white underskirt, or perhaps it was called a petticoat, Liam wasn't sure. She pulled on her stockings, baring quite a bit of rather attractive leg to do so, and slipped her feet into her sturdy shoes. Then she set off toward town, walking very quickly. She didn't seem to have noticed Liam watching her.

When a hand came down on his shoulder, Liam jumped. It was Barlow. Glancing at the bunkhouse, Liam saw smoke coming from the chimney. He knew Barlow often got here before his wife, to have the stove already lit and ready for her to use when she arrived.

"Looks like our young Norman is sowing himself some wild oats," Barlow said, staring after the young woman. She was almost out of sight already.

Liam made a noncommittal grunt and went back to stacking the firewood. For a long moment, Barlow watched soberly, then he started helping. "You know, Liam," he said, hoping he wasn't pushing things too far, "we all thought for while there that the master was… well, a bit off in his preferences, if you know what I mean." Even though they were all on a first-name basis with Norman, they still sometimes referred to him as the master, especially among themselves.

When Liam didn't acknowledge Barlow's comment, the married man continued, "We thought he was maybe, well, interested in you. We weren't sure if you returned that or not, but we all saw how little you liked the intrusion of that Robert fellow." There was still no reply from the younger man, so Barlow said, "Just give him some time. Let him sow his wild oats, and see if maybe he doesn't come back to you after."

Liam clenched his teeth. He knew the older man was just trying to help, but Liam was no lover of men. There was a part of him that wished that pretty brunette had come home with _him_ last night, rather than with Norman. And yet, before Robert came along, there had been something about Norman that just drew him, like bees were drawn to a garden full of fragrant blossoms. "He's got nothing to come back to, not like you're saying," Liam said, even though a part of him wondered if it was true. But just hearing that the other men all thought that he and Norman were… together, like that, or that they wanted to be, Liam felt embarrassed. He had never suspected the men would think _that_ of him. His own uncertainty only made it worse.

* * *

><p>Mike had seen Paige leave earlier, but she hadn't even knocked on his door before she left. He assumed she was going to Greensmountain Heights to talk to Dr. Horne, and she probably wanted privacy. He would give her some time to talk to her friend and advisor before going out to meet her. He was still upset about her deal with Rumpelstiltskin, but Eliza was very precious to him, and he wasn't ready to just give up on her.<p>

He had slept later than usual; even though the businesses were all being reopened, Mike had taken the day off. As he set about making himself some breakfast, he couldn't stop thinking about Paige. He still wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but at the same time, he wasn't sure he could handle the fact that she had sold her virginity to Rumpelstiltskin. He knew she had only done so to save her brothers, but it still sickened him. And her continuing… _relationship_ with the man here in Storybrooke was revolting as well, but he was trying very hard not to blame her for that part. Under the Curse, no one had remembered who they were.

Mike sighed. The main reason he had taken the day off was because he wanted to sit down with Paige and talk things out. Even if they couldn't resolve the situation today, he hoped to set a good foundation for moving forward. Part of him wanted to rush off and find her right away, but he didn't want to intrude on her time with Horne, especially since he suspected she wanted the good doctor's advice on the same thing he was worried about – the betrothal.

* * *

><p>Paige sat on the bench for a few minutes after Mr. Gold left. She realized that she still had questions for him, questions that would need to be answered. But he was already gone, and while Mike would probably text before he came looking for her, there was always the possibility that he would simply assume this was where she'd be and just show up. She didn't quite dare to text Gold and ask him to come back. She would just have to wait and get her answers another time.<p>

There was really nothing else to do, so she sighed and went inside to talk to Dr. Horne, but she couldn't bring herself to explain the situation between Mike and herself. But as soon as she had that thought, she amended it. It was her situation with Gold that she didn't want to admit to, and that was the whole reason she and Mike were even having issues.

She said goodbye and headed for Granny's. She hoped they had reopened already, and she also hoped that Ruby would be there. Even if she couldn't tell her friend the truth, she knew that just being around Ruby would make things seem a little bit better.

* * *

><p>Dr. Horne looked up when Mike came into his office. "Ah, Mike – I mean, Prince Andrew, I am being much pleased to see you."<p>

"Please, Doctor," Mike said, "call me Andrew. Or Mike. I mean, technically I am both, so I guess either works."

Horne smiled sadly. "Yes, we are all seeming to be both." He ran a hand through his hair. It seemed strange not to feel his horns. "But to bring up a perhaps more pleasant topic, Eliza was here but a short time ago."

Mike asked, "Do you know where she went?"

"I believe she was wanting to see if Granny's had been reopened yet," Horne replied. Before Mike could make his farewells, Horne put a hand on the young man's arm. "Before you are going, I am having a favor to be asking."

"Anything, Doctor Nerean," Mike said.

"I am very much wishing to learn this talking with the hands that the princess has learned in this world."

Mike blinked. "Oh, well, yeah, I mean, I could teach you, I guess. But it'll take some time."

Doctor Horne shook his head. "It will not take so very much time at all, I am hoping." Mike looked at him blankly. "I am not certain if you are aware of a faun's abilities with the mind?"

"Oh," Mike said, suddenly realizing what Horne meant. "You mean like what you did with that swamp witch just before I came to live at the palace?"

"Indeed," Horne replied. "Another aspect of that ability is that a faun can be accepting information from a willing individual by delving that person's mind. The knowledge gleaned thusly can be retained, because the subject is willing. With Lilura, little of her knowledge did remain with me because she was fighting me. However," he went on, "there is being one small catch. The knowledge, it would not be all complete. Many are the fauns who have studied this, and the knowledge gleaned from another faun will be having less parts missing, but this catch, it is still there even betwixt my brethren."

"So, you could, what, read my mind and learn sign language instantly?" Mike wasn't too sure he liked the sound of this.

"In essence, that is being true," the doctor answered, sensing Mike's reservation. "But it would not be quite like the situation with Lilura. She fought, so I was needing to search through many of her thoughts and memories, but if you are willing, only the information I am seeking will be gleaned." He paused for a moment. "Although I am… uncertain as to whether it is being possible in this world. Magic is feeling somewhat odd here, but I would like to be trying, if you would allow this."

Mike took a deep breath, considering. "Well, what happens if it goes wrong? Is there any possibility this could damage my mind if things go sour?"

"There is some small possibility of that," Horne said, meeting Mike's eyes with a very serious expression on his face. "However, that is being rather remote. It is more likely that the going sour would mean that I simply cannot delve your mind."

"Alright, then," Mike said. "Let's try it."

Horne smiled. "You are a good man, my prince. Now, because of the potential difficulties here in this world, I am thinking it would, perhaps, be best if we are meeting up with Eliza, so she can hand-speak to you whilst I delve. In this way, it will help you for to be concentrating on this language. It may make our tasks easier with this strange magic. Of course, we must be speaking with Eliza first, so if you would be accompanying me to the diner?"

"Alright," Mike said. "Let me just text her first so she knows we're on our way."

* * *

><p>Paige smiled when Ruby brought out two slices of pie.<p>

"Granny said I could sit and talk for a bit," Ruby said as she sat down, putting one piece of pie in front of Paige. "I've never actually tried the blueberry before, but I figured since, you know, we're friends, and you're the princess of the Blueberry kingdom, and all..."

[Don't be silly, ru. If you don't like blueberries, don't eat them for my sake] Paige texted.

When Ruby read the text, she smiled at her friend. "Actually, I've just never tried it. I mean, it's true that I don't like blueberries, but I don't like cherries either, and I _love_ cherry pie. Don't worry, if I don't like it, you can finish my piece!"

Paige smiled back at Ruby. This was exactly what she needed right now, light banter with someone wasn't either confusing her or judging her. Of course, Ruby didn't know about what went on between Paige and Gold, but Paige wanted to wait until she'd gotten things sorted out in her own mind before she confessed to Ruby.

"Hey, ladies," came a female voice, before Ruby could try a bite of pie.

"Oh, hey, Cass!" Ruby said, smiling. The woman's name was actually Cassiel, but most people called her Cassie or Cass.

"I just wanted to let you know that we're planning to reopen the club in a few days, so I hope I'll see you there again soon!" Cassie was the bartender at the club.

Ruby looked to Paige, who nodded, before answering, "Yeah, definitely! I'm not sure when, exactly, I don't know what our work schedules are like, but we'll definitely be back!"

"Great," said Cassie. "I'll be watching for you!" Then she gave a wry smile and held up the two disposable coffee cups she was carrying. "Well, I have to go now, my husband's waiting for his caffeine."

"Oh, where does he work? I noticed your wedding band, but you were always too busy at the club to really talk about it," Ruby said.

"Actually, he owns the Storybrooke Ad Agency," Cassie said. "It's just a small firm, but it's the only advertising firm in town, because most people just come up with their own ideas for their businesses. But he does all right."

Ruby made a slightly guilty face. She and Granny did all their own advertising, and she felt a little awkward finding out that Cassie's husband owned a business like that in Storybrooke. "Yeah, I guess since pretty much everything here is a privately-owned business, that makes sense. Does he do it all himself, or does he have employees?"

"There are two full-time advertising agents and one part-timer, plus Ethan does some of it himself when necessary, and he also has a part-time janitor for the office, but that's really it."

"Oh, okay," Ruby said, nodding. She had been afraid that the business was so poor that he had to handle it all himself.

"Anyway," Cassie went on, "he's at his office now, waiting for me to bring his coffee, so I really should go. See you soon!"

"Bye," Ruby said brightly, while Paige waved. As soon as Cassie had left, Ruby turned back to Paige, looking almost apprehensive. "You're not still working for Gold, are you?"

Paige picked up her cell phone and texted, [No, not now that the curse is broken...] She winced inwardly, worrying about the day when she had to confess the truth to her friend. She didn't know if Ruby would even want to still be friends when she found out the truth, but Paige didn't like lying to people. The truth would have to be told at some point.

"Good," Ruby said, clearly relieved. "I'm sure we can find somewhere else for you to work. What do you like to do?"

Paige smiled, trying not to show how flustered she felt. [We can figure that out later. You still haven't tried your pie] she texted.

Ruby smiled and took a bite. Her eyes lit up, and she said, "Oh my gosh, this is actually really good!" It came out a little garbled around her mouthful of pie.

Paige started to text Ruby to tease her about talking with her mouth full, but an incoming text interrupted her. It was from Mike. Paige changed what she was going to text to Ruby. [Hey, Mike's on his way, and apparently doctor horne is coming, too...]

"Who's Doctor Horne?" Ruby asked.

[He owns greensmountain heights, that assisted living place? It's where my father is – and just the other day, father went into a coma.] Paige immediately started texting again. [Anyway, the doctor was actually our royal physician in the world that was.]

"Yeah, I think I know the place you're talking about. And I'm sorry about your father," said Ruby, her face compassionate. "Any reason why they're both coming? Or do they just want to hang out?"

Paige texted, [I don't know, mike didn't say...]

* * *

><p>"Look, I'm sorry," Liam said, "but we should at least <em>try<em> to find out what happened to Norman. He said he would be a month, two at the most, and it's been almost four." Norman had left just after the harvest, saying that he had a sick aunt, living near the king's fortress, who seemed to by dying. He said she was unmarried and childless, and that he may well be her only living relative. The fortress was a journey of perhaps nine days on foot, and it was the place where Lord Felix had set up his campaign to take control of the land and become king, finally ending the petty squabbling of the various factions.

"It's nearly time to start planting," Liam added. "Norman should be here for that, don't you think? Since, after all, he owns this farm." Even though Norman had not resumed their friendship, Liam still felt that Norman deserved his concern. "Besides, what if something has happened to him?"

Barlow sighed. "You're right, Liam. The gods know you are right, but I still don't want to let you go haring off like this. I've got a bad feeling about it."

Liam tried not to act impatient. He knew Barlow sometimes got feelings like this, and the man was usually right, but still, Norman might be out there in some town or farmhouse somewhere, recovering from an awful injury. Or maybe he had caught whatever sickness his aunt had, and perhaps she had died and Norman was all alone with no one he knew nearby. Liam's gut clenched with worry. He didn't want to let himself think of the worst-case scenario.

Barlow sighed again. "But then again, I'm not sure I could keep you here, so I may as well give you my blessing." The married man was also the most experienced of all the farmhands, so he had been left in charge while Norman was gone. He shook his head at Liam's grateful expression.

* * *

><p>As he got closer to the large town nearest the fortress, Liam was hearing some rather startling things. It seemed that Lord Felix had been lied to, or had lied to others, depending on who he listened to, about his son, Robert. Liam wondered if it was the same Robert who had stayed at the farm. But apparently, it turned out that this son was actually not his, and that his eldest child had been a daughter, switched at birth. Those that didn't blame Lord Felix said that his wife had made the switch without her husband's knowledge.<p>

But the most shocking part was the news about that daughter. Her name was Norah, and she had been living a lie of her own, posing as a man so she could stay on the farm owned by the couple she had thought were her parents. Coupled with the man named Robert, could it be? Could Norman really have been Norah? The names _were_ similar.

Liam made a big mistake in asking for specifics. Word got to Lord Felix, and Robert was sent to find him. It _was_ the same Robert who had taken refuge at the farm, and who had apparently switched places with Norman – or rather, Norah! No wonder the master had seemed so very different!

Robert threatened Liam. With Lord Felix's full support, Robert swore that if Norah ever heard from Liam again, Liam would find himself rotting in a dungeon, or worse.

Not knowing what else to do, Liam headed back to the farm. Maybe Barlow would be able to figure something out.

* * *

><p>After Mike and Dr. Horne had explained what they wanted to try, Paige was surprised when Ruby spoke up. "I want to learn, too," she said to Horne. "Can you put that knowledge into <em>my<em> head, too?"

Horne looked startled. "I am being uncertain, Miss Ruby," he answered. "To the very best of my awareness, no faun has ever tried the putting of knowledge gleaned from one mind into any other mind than his or her own."

"Please, call me Ruby. And can we try? I would love to be able to understand her, I know it has to be frustrating for her to have to type everything she wants to say to me."

After thinking for a moment, Horne said, "If you are willing, I will be trying this thing. It would be… interesting, discovering if this can or cannot work. I do not think there would be any risking of harm to you, but I must be warning you – the knowledge _I _glean will not be fully intact, there will be… empty spaces, if you will, between parts of knowledge. And I very much am suspecting that anything placed thusly into _your_ mind will be having even emptier spaces."

Ruby shrugged. "That's fine," she said. "Whenever she makes a sign I don't know, she can just text me the meaning and do it again so I can learn it. It'll be a _lot_ faster than trying to learn from scratch."

"You are having a muchly good point, Ruby," Horne said. "But I am not thinking that we should be trying this in so very public a place. Perhaps somewhere we are all being more comfortable?" He pronounced it "come-fort-able," emphasizing the middle syllable rather than the first.

Ruby made a face. "Hold on, I have to check with Granny. I'm supposed to be waiting tables right now," she said, gesturing to her apron. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere without me, 'kay?"

"We'll wait for you, Ruby," Mike said reassuringly, smiling at her. It meant a lot to him that she was this eager to learn how to better communicate with Paige. And when he noticed the stunning, happy smile Paige directed at him, his heart swelled. He loved making her smile, and it seemed like he hadn't done that very much of late.

As they waited, Regina came in, and she seemed almost excited and nervous. She looked around like she was trying to find someone, but her smile faltered and she took an empty booth where she could watch the door. Paige wondered who Regina could possibly be expecting that would make her so happy, so… vulnerable. She started to wonder if there might be some good in Regina after all.

* * *

><p>They had decided to go to Paige's side of the duplex. Perhaps Mike's side would have been more familiar and comfortable to Mike, but as he had pointed out, Ruby had never been to his side, and he had spent a lot of time on Paige's side once she moved in.<p>

**I hardly know what to sign. **Paige looked excited. Mike could understand that; even though she technically could communicate through texting, he was sure Ruby was right when she said that it must be frustrating sometimes, having to do all that typing. Sometimes conversations could move pretty fast, but if one person had to type out everything she wanted to say, it could certainly drag things down.

"Just sign whatever you want, Princess," he said, knowing it would remind her of his visit to the manor house in the forest.

She smiled. **It will be wonderful if this works. And maybe if we find more people that we knew, they would be willing to learn this way, too. Do you think your brother would want to? I mean, I know he doesn't know me all that well, and we may not have that much to say to each other in the long term, so I guess it wouldn't be that important to him.**

Mike shrugged. "It never hurts to ask, though. But maybe we'll find Sir Elrick, or your ladies-in-waiting, or your maids, or even some of the farmers who lived close to the castle." He didn't say it, but he was thinking of the farm that had the small lake, where her brothers had spent their summers as swans. Maybe those farmers would know what had happened to the six princes.

**But that's only if this works for Ruby, though,** she added, for once not following Mike's thought process. **I really hope it does.** The look in her eyes told him that Ruby's eagerness to try meant a lot to Paige, as well. But there was a hint of worry in there, too. Mike wondered if she worried something would go wrong. But Dr. Horne seemed pretty certain that there was no actual danger, either to Mike or to Ruby.

Paige rubbed her fingers together, trying to figure out what else to say, when Horne announced, "It is being now finished! But before we are trying to transfer this knowledge further, perhaps we should be testing it."

**Can you understand me, good Doctor?**

Horne smiled. "Yes, sweet girl! I am understanding this hand-speaking of yours!"

Paige threw her arms around the doctor, but she just gave him a quick, fiercely joyful hug before pulling back to sign, **Now try giving it to Ruby!**

The doctor frowned briefly. "I am assuming that last sign was for Ruby's name?"

Paige nodded. Part of her felt anxious; they had already stumbled on a hole in the knowledge. But Ruby was smiling eagerly as Horne nodded back at Paige, his face thoughtful as he committed that sign to memory.

Placing his hands gently on Ruby's head, Horne closed his eyes and concentrated. Her eyes closed and her face went still and smooth. Paige watched anxiously; was Ruby okay? After a few minutes that felt more like a few hours, Horne opened his eyes and removed his hands. Ruby's eyes shot open, and she looked straight at Paige.

**Well**? Paige signed, her face hopeful. **Do you understand me?**

When Ruby's whole face lit up, and she grinned ear to ear, Paige didn't even wait for a verbal response. She threw her arms around her friend and held her tight.

"I understood you, Paige," Ruby said softly. There was pure wonder in her voice and Mike noticed a tear in her eye. He found himself thinking that Ruby might well have been the best thing that had happened to Paige since the Curse struck.

Ruby saw him looking and pulled back, grinning mischievously. "Hey, Andrew, you been keeping out of the way of rampaging boars lately?"

Mike laughed. "I can but try," he replied. "Although I'm pretty sure that if I just ignore all the screaming women who have been _treed_ by a boar, I'll be alright."

"Why, you – you unchivalrous lout!" Ruby said, still teasing.

Shrugging, Mike said, "Yeah, well, I figure one boar-tusk scar is enough, don't you think?"

Ruby's face went serious. "Your leg? Didn't it heal properly?"

"Actually," Mike answered, "it healed pretty well, considering. It was deep enough to need stitches, and it _was_ just over a day before we got back to the castle. By the time I caught up with the hunting party, the court physician had already headed back to the castle with a knight who had nearly broken his neck. He didn't say it, but from the sting of his cleansing solution, I suspect there may have been an infection starting, as well." He grinned, adding, "Maybe if you can stay out of trouble, I'll show you the scar one of these days."

"Or you could just drop your pants right now," Ruby said, grinning back. But as soon as she realized what she'd said, the grin fell from her face. She turned to Paige, who was looking back and forth between the two who had been reminiscing. "Oh, Paige, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that to him."

**You had a crush on him when he saved you from that boar, didn't you?**

"I had a what? I didn't know the one for boar either, but that one was pretty obvious, I know it now." Ruby's face was worried. She should have gone straight back to work, instead of staying to chat. She hoped she hadn't offended her friend.

Her phone went off. [A crush] Paige had texted. When Ruby looked up, Paige made the sign again. Ruby blushed and nodded guiltily.

**It's okay, Ruby,** Paige signed. **I can tell that it's gone now. I mean, you still think he's good-looking, and you're certainly not wrong there, but you think of him as a friend now, not a potential boyfriend. I can tell by the way you look at him.**

"Our sweet Eliza is being very much empathetic," Dr. Horne said. "She is noticing this sort of thing far more easily than most of us."

After another text message and a further demonstration of the term "good-looking," Ruby seemed relieved. "I was afraid you would think I was trying to steal him or something," she said.

Paige smiled comfortingly. **I know you would never do that to me.**

"Good," said Ruby. "Cuz I wouldn't." After taking a deep breath, she said, "I told Granny I'd come back as soon as we were done here, so I should really go." She hugged everyone, including Dr. Horne. "I'll see you guys later!"

Once Ruby had gone, Mike pulled the good doctor aside and spoke to him quietly. Afterward, Horne told Paige that he should really get back to the facility and said his goodbyes, leaving Paige alone with Mike, who suddenly looked nervous.

Before Paige could ask him what was wrong, he blurted out, "I shouldn't have said what I did yesterday."

**But it has to be hard for you, to go against your instinct to protect me. Don't think I don't realize that. It's just… when you try to protect me no matter what I want, it makes me feel like you don't think I'm strong enough to take care of myself. And I **_**am**_**. **Paige's face was compassionate, but with a hint of wariness. She hoped this wouldn't turn into another fight.

"You're right, it _is_ hard," he answered. "But I don't do it because I don't think you're strong enough. It's just… what I feel like I'm _supposed_ to do."

Paige's hands were still for a moment, then she signed. **Alright, let's compromise. I can't promise, but I'll do my best not to get mad when you try to protect me if you'll do your best to fight that urge. And I'm not asking you to promise that you'll fight it, just like I'm not promising to not get angry, because I don't want either of us to feel resentment over broken promises. I know you'll keep trying to protect me sometimes, whatever I want, and I know that sometimes I'll get mad and blow up at you when you do. It's in our natures. Just as you feel like you're supposed to protect me, I feel like I shouldn't **_**need**_** someone else to protect me. I just feel like I should be able to rely on myself and not have to wait around to be rescued, you know? I know you're not intentionally insulting me when you do it, but there's still a part of me that just reacts without thinking. And I'll try to be better, to hold that part of me in check. Okay?**

Mike smiled, but also looked like he was about to cry. "Okay. And I'll try to suppress that urge to protect you. But… I still don't know where we stand, yet. Every time I look at you, I see your stomach, and I just think… I mean, it seems like a form of prostitution. You sold sex to Rumpelstiltskin to get what you wanted, and right now, I don't know if I can handle that, especially since it will be that foul man's child on the throne. I mean, the inheritance of your throne was not mentioned in our betrothal agreement, I know, but I assume that both your father and my brother felt that it was a forgone conclusion."

**And my firstborn **_**would**_** have been yours, had that witch not cast that spell on my brothers. **_**All**_** of my children would have been yours.** Paige looked like she was trying not to cry. **And… I guess I can see how it seems like prostitution. But Andrew, even if I knew for absolute certain that I would lose you over it, I would most likely still have done it. I have to save my brothers. I'm the only one who **_**can**_**. I'm sorry. I know that has to be hard for you to hear – or, well, you know what I mean.**

Mike took Paige's hands in his own. "By the gods, Eliza. I wish you hadn't told me that." His voice was rough. "But right now… well, that's part of the reason why I can't be with you right now. I'm not saying never, but I have to make my peace with all of this before I can be sure. There's still a part of me that says I should stop thinking too much and just tell you that the betrothal is still on, because I _do_ love you, Eliza, very much. But if I listen to that voice, I might end up resenting that child, resenting _you_, and I don't want to ever do that to you. So I know it seems like this is all I've ever said since the Curse was cast, but please, give me more time?" He let go of her hands so she could answer.

Paige couldn't stop the tears, but they slid silently down her cheeks. She didn't sob like she wanted to, not even the nearly-silent sobs that were her only option until she had either succeeded or failed in her task. **My love, I will wait for you even after eternity has grown old and died.**

Mike kissed her hands. He noticed that she wasn't wearing his ring, but he didn't say anything about it. He had no right to be upset about that when he couldn't even promise that he _would_ marry her.

* * *

><p>Liam knew he should pick up his pace; at this rate, it would take a lot longer than nine days to get back to the farm. But he had finally found out why he'd been so drawn to Norman, to Norah, really, and he couldn't even see her. What if she was his true love? How could he ever find out?<p>

Now that he had gotten away from the towns that had sprouted closer to the fortress, there was a long stretch of road that was seldom traveled, at least by anyone on foot. He hadn't even seen any horses or carriages since the day before. He had the road to himself, and it suited his glum mood.

Suddenly, a voice spoke from beside him. "Why the long face, dearie?"

He jumped. "Where did you… who are you?"

The strange-looking man bowed. "Rumpelstiltskin, of course," he lilted cheerfully. Liam turned and started walking again. He didn't want to hear cheerfulness right now, and he definitely shouldn't make a deal with the likes of this imp.

"I know what you want," Rumpelstiltskin sing-songed, practically dancing up beside Liam. "Your little would-be princess – you want to see her again. To find out if she _loves_ you." He smirked when Liam stopped.

After a few ragged breaths, Liam asked, "Can you make that happen?"

"Ah, well, you see, I don't _need_ to. It _will_ happen, on one condition, and one condition only. I can tell you that condition – for a price."

Liam swallowed. "What is that price?"

"Merely the first fruits of your 'labor of love,'" Rumpelstiltskin replied.

"What fruits? What labor?" asked Liam.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Rumpelstiltskin shook his finger at Liam. "I cannae give you that information until you make the deal, dearie."

After considering what Rumpelstiltskin could mean by that, Liam said, "Swear to me that you do not mean my firstborn child, and that you do not mean to somehow take Norah away from me."

"Nay, dearie, the girl is all yours." Rumpelstiltskin turned away from Liam, making a face. As if he would _want _that sickeningly docile little wretch. "And this 'labor of love' to which I refer is, well, not _that_ sort of labor." He chuckled and turned back toward Liam, a suggestive grin on his face that made Liam blush. "And 'tis not your offspring I am requesting here."

"You can't tell me what it is?" Liam asked. "Not even a hint?"

Rumpelstiltskin considered for a moment. "Honey. From your bee-hives. But not just _any_ honey."

Liam blinked. Honey? But then again, this imp was renowned for knowing things, so it was hardly surprising that he knew that Liam wanted to try his hand at bee-keeping.

"And if you tell me what I want to know, that means I _will _tend bees and make this honey, and I _will_ find Norah? And be able to find out what she feels for me?"

"That's right, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said, smirking.

"Then it's a deal," Liam said, barely hesitating. As far as he understood, honey's magical properties were more on the side of good magic, not dark, although if anyone could pervert its use, it would be this imp. But if all he had to give was a crock of honey, it was more than worth it.

Grinning, Rumpelstiltskin flourished his hand and the contract appeared. "Sign here, dearie," he said, handing Liam a quill and offering up the scroll, with the line at the bottom prominently displayed.

Liam signed and handed the scroll and quill back to the impish man before him.

"Now, then, first you must understand that a Curse is coming. This Curse will take us to another world, where you will meet some farmers who grow… blueberries. You will join their farm, and that is where your hives will flourish. The bees must only be allowed to access the blueberry blossoms."

"But –" Liam started.

"Ah!" interrupted Rumpelstiltskin. "The task will not be so difficult as it sounds, not in this other world."

"It must be some powerful kind of magic in that world, then." Liam was beginning to wonder if he'd made the right choice.

"Actually, dearie, that land has no magic at all," Rumpelstiltskin replied, smirking. "Now, you must fill this jar with the first of the honey you produce in that land," he said, as a large jar appeared in his hands. The base and neck were rounded, but the four sides had been flattened, so that it almost looked like it was meant for displaying something. "And once you have been reunited with your long-lost love interest, you must deliver the full jar to me!"

Rumpelstiltskin didn't worry about the fact that Liam would not know who he was; the young man would instinctively fill this jar with his first honey and set it aside as a memento of his success. After the Curse was broken, he would remember what that jar of honey was for.

* * *

><p>Paige had told Mike that she didn't know why Gold had left the paperwork on her porch, just that he had given her a property. But Mike refused to go with her. So she had texted Dr. Horne, who picked her up and drove her to the place. It was outside of the main part of town, in an area that seemed to have quite a bit of farmland.<p>

When they found the address, there was a wide building at the front with several cars parked in a graveled space at the end of the drive. Paige wasn't sure, but as they pulled in, she thought she saw some greenhouses behind the building. A hand-painted sign, nailed up beside the weathered door, proclaimed "Blueberry Farm." Paige's mouth went dry.

Inside, she hardly took a step before a woman rushed up to hug her. "Oh, Eliza!" she cried, then called her family to come and see who had shown up.

It was a rather confusing few minutes, with everyone wavering between hugging Paige and bowing to her, calling her Princess. She signed something to Dr. Horne, who had stayed out of the way. These people were well known to him, and Paige would be in no danger from them.

"Our sweet Eliza is asking you to for the giving of some space to breathe, and so she can be seeing you all better," he translated.

"Doctor Nerean?!" the first woman asked, shocked.

"Indeed," he replied. "In this world, I seem to find myself with the appearance of a man and not that of a faun."

The woman said no more about it, noticing the look in his eyes. "In this world, we're known as the Blues. Ironic, no?" She smiled. "I am Jane Blue, my husband is Malcolm. Our sons are George and Duncan, and our daughter is Alexa."

Horne said, "Here where I am tragically without my horns, I am being known as Doctor Horne. And our dear Princess is known as Paige Cygnus. And I fear she is unable to speak."

"How," Jane asked. "What happened? Was she hurt?"

"As I have been discovering, it is part of the ordeal she must undergo to be saving her brothers from their swan-spell." Horne hesitated. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "My dear Elmira, by any possibility, are you being aware of the fate of the princes?"

"No," she said, lowering her voice so Paige wouldn't hear. "I'm afraid not, Doctor." After an anxious glance at Paige, who was still being hugged, bowed to, and asked a multitude of questions she couldn't answer, the woman added, "They had migrated before that awful Curse struck, and it shames me to admit it, but I do not know where the boys wintered, or if they even went to the same place every fall."

"That should be bearing you no shame, my goodly woman," Horne said. "None could be expected to follow six birds in flight to the ending of their migration. But unless she is asking directly, I am having thoughts that we should not be burdening our sweet princess with this news just yet."

"Not in her condition," Jane said, eyeing Paige critically. Horne wasn't quite sure what she meant by that; Paige looked happy enough at being reunited with old friends. But a stranger came through the door that led further into the building. "Ah, Miles," Jane called. "Come over here and meet some people."

* * *

><p>Nearly an hour later, silence fell over the room when Horne translated Paige's suggestion that, since she now owned the place, they turn this spacious front room, currently used for storage, into a shop where they could sell their products. The Blue family had quite a store of wine, brandy, beer, and even jam, all made from the blueberries they had grown here. Jane talked of making the champagne again, as well. And there was a new product that their kingdom had never sold before – blueberry-blossom honey. Miles helped out with the blueberry bushes, but he also kept bees in some of the greenhouses, so they were only given access to the blueberry blossoms.<p>

Since they grew the blueberries in greenhouses, the Blue family had arranged things so that there was always at least one greenhouse bearing fruit at all times. They already sold their blueberries to the grocery store, and even to Granny, which explained why her blueberry pie was so good. Paige strongly suspected Granny would be interested in acquiring some of the other products the store would be selling, as well. She made a mental note to ask Ruby when would be a good time to discuss a business arrangement with Granny.

For another half hour, everyone discussed it, and they agreed. It was how the blueberry kingdom had thrived in the world that was, so why shouldn't they keep doing what they knew best?

Paige suggested that they get help with their advertising campaign, saying she knew just who to go to. A text to Ruby proved that the waitress didn't have Cassie's phone number, but she knew where the advertising firm was located.

* * *

><p>It was just late enough in the afternoon that Paige was a little worried that the office might be closed for the day, but when they arrived, the sign still said "Open." Dr. Horne held the door for Paige, and then for Jane and Miles as well. Everyone had wanted to come, but Jane was the head of her family, and since Miles was responsible for the honey, Paige felt he should be present, as well, but she didn't want to overwhelm Cassie's husband.<p>

They had taken some samples of their product with them, and after explaining their situation to Ethan Gould, the owner and also Cassie's husband, they offered to let him try whatever he wanted.

"Actually," Ethan said, eyeing the small jars with a hint of regret, "I think I'll be assigning your case to Ms. Clemens. She does very well with this sort of thing, and she should probably be the one to sample it." He stood and opened his office door. "Come along, I'll introduce you."

But when they reached Sammi's desk, she gasped. "Liam?!" She stared at Miles.

Smiling, Miles said, "Yes, it's me… Norah."

A tear slid down Sammi's cheek, but it was a happy tear. "It's so good to hear you say my real name," she whispered.

* * *

><p>Liam had told Barlow what he learned, but he hadn't mentioned his deal with Rumpelstiltskin. A new farmhand had been hired, even though they weren't sure who technically owned this property now.<p>

The farm had continued to do well over the past year, and Liam had talked Barlow into adding a few beehives. He knew that nothing would happen until they were in this other world the imp had spoken of, but he might as well learn everything he could now.

* * *

><p>Paige felt her face go pale. This was another one of those dreams. Now that she knew, she was afraid to speak out loud. Even though she had spoken in the previous dream with no apparent consequences, knowing that this was more than a regular dream made her nervous.<p>

**Are you sure we should do this?**

"You can speak here without fear of letting your brothers down," Gold said. "After all, dove, 'tis only a dream."

After he spoke, his appearance changed. He stalked toward her, becoming Rumpelstiltskin as he approached. He was tired of always being Mr. Gold, and also, he wanted to see how Paige would react to this form.

She licked her lips, running her eyes up and down his lithe body. She had never noticed just how… gracefully the impish man moved. Then she realized that that wasn't entirely true. At her masquerade, he had been a very smooth, accomplished dance partner.

When she spoke, it was in a whisper. "I'm not so sure we should do this, Rumpelstiltskin." But her breath came fast and shallow, and the longing in her eyes betrayed her.

Rumpelstiltskin moved closer to Paige, eying her up and down. He even circled behind her, saying, "Oh, but dove, you're all aquiver with your…desire." He whispered that last word into her ear, standing behind her. He was not quite touching her, but Paige could feel the heat rising from his body.

She knew it was true; all she wanted was for him to take that last little half-step and press himself against her. She wanted to feel his lips against her neck, his hands reaching around to touch her breasts. It was all she could do to not turn and face him, and wrap her arms and legs around his body.

"Yes," she whispered, still half-terrified of speaking aloud. "But things are different now."

"How, dove, how are they so different?"

"Andrew – " Paige started to say, but Rumpelstiltskin cut her off.

"Has your young man decided if his love outweighs his, ah, disgust?"

Her face was sad, but instead of replying, Paige tried a different tack. "And you have Belle now," she said, still speaking very softly.

"Ah, yes," he said, "well, a man can't control his dreams, eh, dearie?"

Swallowing hard as she fought her lust, Paige said, "But it seems that _you_ can."

For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin considered telling Paige exactly how things were between Belle and himself. But in the end, he chose not to respond to Paige's accusation. Instead, he reached up and trailed his fingers down the back of Paige's arm, hitting all those sensitive spots that always made her tremble. Her breath came out in a long, shaky sigh as she leaned back, leaned into him.

She pressed her backside against his hips, feeling his erection, and he smirked even as he lowered his lips to her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. Since the part of their agreement about not leaving marks on her was now a moot point, and since this was only a dream, anyway, he sucked at her skin, leaving a hickey on the side of her neck. Then he set his teeth against her skin and began to bite down. He gauged her reaction carefully; she seemed to be turned on by the light pressure he was using now. So he bit a little bit harder.

Paige gave a moan that almost sounded like a protest, but she had reached her hands around behind him so that she could grab his behind and press his hips even tighter against hers. He could feel the tips of her fingers digging into his flesh through the leather pants he wore. She had even put her head to the side, giving him full access to her neck.

Releasing her skin, he ran his hands up her stomach to cup her breasts. She moaned, but pulled away. "No, Andrew may not be sure he still wants to spend his life with me, but what about Belle? What if she finds out?"

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "Things between Belle and myself are… not as good as I could have hoped. She loves me, but she keeps her distance. Because I'm still a monster." He looked so sad when he said that.

Paige put her hand to Rumpelstiltskin's face. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"In essence, my love life is in the same shambled state as yours," he added.

"So what do we do now?" Paige asked.

Instead of answering, Rumpelstiltskin kissed her. She responded at first, but then she pulled away, still hesitant. When he spoke, there was a very faint hint of pleading in his voice. "Please, dove, distract me."

Paige swallowed. She knew how it felt to constantly worry about the future, about her one true love. Maybe they both needed this distraction, but if Andrew ever came to his senses, she would have to reconsider what went on in these dreams. She leaned in and kissed him, much more passionately this time.

Her face took on a seductive cast as she knelt at Rumpelstiltskin's feet. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, rubbing her cheek against his erection like a cat leaving its scent. Then she looked up at him and gave a long, slow lick up the seam of his pants. The leather did dull the sensation somewhat, but the visual more than made up for it. That darkness in her eyes made his breath hitch. As she started to unlace his leather breeches, he could only feel soft, butterfly-like brushes, but instead of changing the dream to make his pants disappear, he just watched Paige as she fumbled eagerly with the laces.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Gold smirked as the bell over his shop door jangled. He looked up. "Ah, I see you've been reunited with your would-be princess."<p>

Miles stood inside the door, clearly feeling very awkward. He held the large, heavy jar of honey with one hand beneath it and the other wrapped around the sides.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Lady of the Lake."

I'm still working on that crossover I mentioned, not sure yet when I'll start posting it. I'll keep you updated.

Also, a few questions for my readers:

1 - We're getting to a point where there is a lot of past storyline - would it be helpful to start off a chapter that furthers a previous plotline with a "Previosly on To Carry On" blurb, something to give a brief reminder of that previous plotline?

2 - Is it getting too hard to keep the names straight? If it is, I can go ahead and post all of the current name information on the board that I mention in my profile, and just make sure that I also post spoiler warnings for anyone who is reading it on that board, since I've only put up 6 chapters there so far...

Please let me know, and please tell me what you thought of this chapter!


	25. S2 Ch4 - Caviar

Here we are - sorry this took so long!

As usual, I do not own the rights to any part of the show, only my own original characters and plotlines!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On:"~~<p>

~In Storybrooke, Paige has found some people she knew from the Enchanted Forest, but there are other people, dear to her, whom she has not yet found. Her father has gone into a "coma," which she fears may be a sleeping curse.

After the Dark Curse was broken and David convinced the people not to leave town, the shops and schools were re-opened, but Paige has decided that she will not go back to work for Mr. Gold. So when Gold gives her a property, it is actually a blessing for Paige, because she can now start her own business, selling the same blueberry goods that made her kingdom so successful in the world that was.

Paige is surprised to discover that the sex dream was "real," after a fashion, but because both she and Gold are having issues with their significant others, she decides that she will continue with the dream-sex for the time being. She is afraid she might be losing Mike, but after all, this is only a dream, right?

~In the Enchanted Forest, 8-year-old Norah knows better than to enter the woods alone, but a Will O' The Wisp entices her and she ends up lost. She meets Rumpelstiltskin, who offers to magically return her to the point where she entered the forest, in exchange for a lock of her hair.

Nearly nine months later, Rumpelstiltskin lures 6-year-old Eliza away from her mother, but Eliza senses danger and makes her way back. Rumpelstiltskin uses magic to trap the girl in some brambles, however, so that some of her hair is tangled and torn away when she escapes. Rumpelstiltskin gleefully snatches up that hair.

Approximately 13 years later, when Norah is 21, Rumpelstiltskin appears again, this time helping her to switch places with Robert, a potential prince, in exchange for the basket containing what scraps were left of their meal. The moment he returns to the Dark Castle, Rumpelstiltskin immediately plucks some of Norah's hair from the basket and compares the two samples. Disgusted by Norah's dreaminess and excessive niceness, Rumpelstiltskin immediately sets out for the Blueberry Kingdom, intending to collect a sample of 19-year-old Eliza's hair in the hope that she will prove a better prospect.

Eliza's brothers still live in the Hidden Manor, but she has been living at the castle with her father for nearly two years, learning how to run the kingdom. But as her father promised, the young princess spends a week or two with her brothers, at least three times a year…

* * *

><p>Eliza's horse galloped down the road, and her long red hair streamed out behind her. When Sir Ryan caught up, he gestured for her to stop.<p>

Still laughing from the sheer joy of riding, of the wind in her hair, Eliza slowed her horse, but she drew it out longer than she needed to, and had to circle back to where Ryan was waiting. "Honestly, Sir Ryan," she said. "It seems like you don't want me to have any fun!"

Ryan sighed, failing to hide his wry smile. "You are as much of a free spirit as your father when he was your age," Ryan said. "But we're coming close to the next town, and you know your father wants you to travel in disguise." He eyed her hair.

Aside from her thigh-length locks, she was dressed as the son of a somewhat prosperous merchant. If anyone asked, their story was that her father had set up shop in the large town by the castle, and that Eliza, called "Eli" to fit her masculine disguise, went to visit "his" aging uncle as often as possible. It explained why they passed through this town a few times a year, and by dressing Eliza as a boy, the king had hoped to make it even more difficult for anyone to discover her true identity.

It was Eliza's turn to sigh. "I do _not_ think every person in the kingdom will recognize me. I doubt most of these townsfolk have even _been_ to the castle. Besides, I seriously doubt that the danger to me will come from one of our own subjects, Sir Ryan!"

"You can never tell until it is too late, Princess. Please," he added. "For me?"

Giving another heavy sigh, Eliza worked her tangled hair into a rough tail at the crown of her head and twisted it into a messy bun. Ryan had pulled out a small box and opened it, holding it so she could reach it. It contained several hair pins; the knight never made this journey with Eliza without the hair pins. He knew her too well.

This was one of the times when Eliza was actually glad that her hair was so thin and fine. Had it been thick, which she sometimes wished for herself, the bun would have been huge. As it was, the floppy hat she had tucked into her saddlebag only just covered the bun without looking like she was hiding her hair. It was the sort of hat which was in fashion among young men who were not of noble blood.

"Ryan," she said, dropping formality. There was a hint of pleading in her tone. "Can we get the same rooms we had last time? I liked that inn. And their blueberry pie has a crumbly sort of crust on top, which I've never tasted elsewhere."

"I could ask for the recipe," Ryan offered.

"You could," Eliza said, her face mischievous. "But then I would no longer have any desire to stop at that inn, and I am certain you would not wish for that, Sir Ryan."

The knight smiled. "Of course not, Eliza," he answered wryly, shaking his head. When he spoke again, his tone was more serious. "I know you hate breaking up the journey into two days, but you are not as accustomed to long rides as your father. And you know, when he used to make those trips where he would only be there for the afternoon, and for dinner? He always stayed here in this town on his way home."

"That _would_ be an awful lot of riding all in one day," Eliza mused. "Out to the manor and then back to the castle. I am glad I don't have to do it that way." She tried to look thoughtful. She didn't want Ryan to catch any hint that she had plans, plans he would _not_ like! "But I still wish we could get there today. I miss my brothers."

"Of course you do, Princess," Ryan said gruffly, trying to sound comforting. "Your father missed _all_ of you during that year you lived at the manor with the boys."

She smiled at her father's friend. "I thank the gods he had you, Ryan. Without you and Nerean, I fear Father would not have been able to tolerate it."

Ryan smiled back. "Let's get to the inn," he said.

* * *

><p>Paige opened the door to the diner and was almost run over by a pretty brunette in a blue dress. When the girl flashed a smile and apologized, Paige realized that this was Belle! She seemed happy and distracted. Paige watched Belle rush off down the street. When she surveyed the diner, she realized Gold was nowhere to be seen. Was Belle going to meet him somewhere?<p>

But Ruby came over, distracting Paige from her thoughts. "Hey! Granny said to bring you into the back as soon as you got here. She seems pretty excited about this. I still can't believe you found a whole farm like you would have had back in our world!"

**Well, not quite the same,** Paige signed. **We didn't have greenhouses back then.** Ruby needed to have the word greenhouses translated, and by then, they were in the kitchen. Granny had just finished cleaning up after doing some baking. There was a timer set for the oven.

"Oh, Paige, dear, hello," Granny said, smiling and giving Paige a big hug.

* * *

><p>Just over half an hour later, Paige and Granny had concluded their business. As Paige had thought, Granny wanted to buy the brandy, the jam, and even the honey. But there was something else she wanted to discuss with Granny.<p>

"Granny, Paige has a favor to ask of you," Ruby translated.

"Of course, dear, anything I can do to help," Granny replied.

Paige signed, and had to text Ruby the meaning of several of the signs. Once she understood everything, Ruby explained. "She says she's trying to break a spell that turned her brothers into swans. That's why she can't talk. But also, she has six years from when time started again to pound the fibers out of nettles, spin those fibers into yarn, and knit shirts for each of her brothers. She's got two full skeins of yarn and is working on a third, so she's really not ready to start knitting yet, but she says she barely knows one end of a knitting needle from the other, and she was hoping you would teach her when the time comes." When Paige signed something else, Ruby spoke to Paige instead of translating. "Yeah, Granny definitely knows how to knit." With a teasing smile at her grandmother, Ruby added, "And crochet, and sew, and embroider, and make lace, and maybe even weave…" She cut off when Granny gave her look. But the older woman wasn't angry; the twinkle in her eye gave her away.

"It's called 'tatting' when you make lace, Ruby," she said, trying to sound terse. "Honestly, I teach you everything I know, and yet you never seem to learn." The smile Granny aimed at Ruby was a fond one. Then she turned to Paige. "And I would be delighted to teach you to knit, Paige."

When Ruby translated Paige's offer of payment, Granny said, "Nonsense! There's no need for that." When Paige raised her hands again, Granny shook a finger at her sternly. "Now, I don't want to hear another word about payment, young lady, is that understood?"

With a wry smile, Paige nodded, but signed something to Ruby anyway.

Ruby couldn't quite suppress a laugh. "She says she hates knitting, so you might regret that," she translated.

Granny chuckled. "Well, that's as may be," she said, "but I won't take payment for something like this. Not something you need this badly." Suddenly, the timer dinged. "Land's sake, that startled me," Granny said, grabbing some pot holders. She took a pie out of the oven, and Paige suddenly realized that she'd been smelling blueberries for a while. Granny set the pie on the counter to cool, saying, "I want you to take that pie home with you, Paige." At the look on Paige's face, Granny added, "When you decided to make that farm into a real business, you thought of me, knowing I'd want some of the products you'll be selling. This is a token of my appreciation."

Paige smiled and signed, **Thank you!**

Ruby tried to translate, but Granny interrupted. "That one was rather obvious, Ruby," she said fondly. Turning to Paige, she said, "And you're very welcome, dear."

* * *

><p>Eliza had done her best to pretend that she was hiding tiredness. She knew Sir Ryan would heartily disapprove of her intentions, so she wanted to lull him. He was a man who went to bed early and rose early, but if he even suspected Eliza was still up, he would stay awake to watch over her.<p>

Fortunately, this inn had no large suites of rooms; not even two rooms were adjoined for a lady and her maid. Clearly this inn, possibly this whole town, wasn't accustomed to nobility passing through. Although even if there were rooms for nobles, Eliza and her companions would likely have taken ordinary rooms anyway. After all, they were traveling in disguise.

Ryan and his young squire Elrick had taken a room together, even though Elrick's family lived further along the lakeshore, only a half-hour's ride outside of town. The boy had ridden ahead earlier, and was visiting his family for the evening, but his oldest brother had married a few years ago, and there was a second child on the way now. Elrick's parents still lived with their eldest, as did his sister, not quite 17 and unmarried as yet. With the medium-sized house already so full, and about to get fuller, the youth felt that there wasn't enough space for him to spend the night there. But still, he wouldn't arrive at the inn until much later.

After supper, Eliza played a game of chess with Sir Ryan, and as usual, she lost, but not as badly as she used to. She got so caught up in the game that she almost forgot to pretend she was tired. But when the knight finally won the game, Eliza stretched and said, "Well, I think I will go to my room and read for a while." Then she hid a yawn behind the back of her hand, a yawn that started out fake, but turned real. "Unless I fall asleep first," she joked. She glanced at Ryan, but wouldn't meet his eyes. She faked an embarrassed expression, as if not wanting to admit that she needed to stop partway along the journey to the Hidden Manor, and strode a little too quickly out of the common room, as if she feared he would make a pointed comment.

In her room, she dug into the very bottom of her saddlebags. She had hidden parts of a peasant's outfit under her other things; a dark-brown skirt and a medium-brown corset with a little light brown embroidery on it. She hadn't bothered with shoes, since the sensible but somewhat worn brown boots that completed her traveling disguise would go well with the peasant-girl outfit. But she didn't dare change into it yet. She hid the skirt and corset under edge of the bed. After taking off her traveling clothes and unwinding the fabric wrapped tightly around her breasts, she dressed as if she were preparing for bed, donning a green smock with a drawstring in the neck, which didn't quite reach the middle of her thighs, and a pair of plain, calf-length pantalets in white linen.

The pantalets had a small slit up the outside of each leg, from the hem to just above the knee, and she laced them loosely with white cords. The outfit would not be entirely unusual for a young man to sleep in, although if she ever had to leave her room in a hurry, like if there was a fire, her thigh-length hair and unbound breasts would ruin their disguise.

She brushed her hair thoroughly and parted it down the middle, twining each side into a long, slender braid, which she tied at the ends with two green ribbons that matched her smock. Then she lay on the bed and tried to focus on the book she'd brought.

* * *

><p>Paige and Dr. Horne were looking over some sketches Sammi had done of different labeling ideas for their products. The young woman had also recommended that they hire an interior designer to help them redesign this large, half-empty room into a warm, welcoming shop.<p>

Everyone here at the farm had asked Dr. Horne to give them the knowledge he had gleaned from Mike, even Miles. The beekeeper hadn't known Paige in the world that was, but now that she owned the property, he had said that it made sense for him to be able to understand her. He wasn't here right now; he was taking Sammi out to lunch.

Jane had gone to the grocery store to deliver a shipment of blueberries. There had been talk of asking the store owner if he wanted to acquire more of their products, but Paige had nipped that in the bud. She intended for them to open their own shop, so it didn't make sense. The main reason she had offered Granny more blueberry products was because both Granny and Ruby had been so kind to Paige. Also, Granny would use the blueberries and the honey in her baking, and would offer the honey and the jam to customers as condiments. Even the brandy would be sold by the glass; anyone who wanted a jar of honey or jam, or a bottle of brandy, would have to buy it from the Blueberry Farm; they had decided to keep the name that the Blues had given the place when they first began growing blueberries. In a way, selling to Granny for use in her diner was almost a form of advertising. Sammi had wholeheartedly approved.

Everyone looked up when the door burst open rather suddenly. Jane rushed in, her eyes sparkling. "Guess who I found!" But without waiting for a response, she turned and pulled someone in by the arm. Glad cries greeted the embarrassed young man, who turned even redder when he saw Paige.

When Paige straightened from the table she was leaning over, everyone else quieted down and stepped back. Paige walked toward the young man, smiling like she had thought she would never see him again.

"Eliza," he whispered, his voice husky as he looked up to meet her eyes. He was at least a few inches shorter than his princess.

Horne moved up beside the young man. "Sir Elrick, we are muchly pleased to see you." When Paige signed, he added, "We all have missed you, and many times have wondered where the Curse had placed you."

Clearing his throat, the young man said, "I'm Ed, Edward Grove, in this land. A fisherman, like my father was back in our kingdom." He gave Paige a confused look, but it quickly melted to dismay. He knelt and would not meet her gaze, saying, "I beg your forgiveness, Princess! I have failed to keep you safe as your father ordered. Please, where is his Highness, so I may submit myself for his judgment?"

Paige blinked. Why did he think she was angry at him? She signed something to Horne, who told the young man, "I regret to be informing you of this, but our king has been cursed to be asleep, we are knowing not for how long." The doctor was also confused by the young man's behavior, but suddenly had an insight. "I am also regretting to tell that our dear Princess is finding herself unable to be speaking aloud – it is part of the counterspell for the undoing of the swan spell."

Ed's relief was palpable. "I am so sorry to hear about your father, m'lady. And please, if there is anything I can do to help with this counterspell, do not hesitate to ask. As ever, my life is yours." In a formal gesture, he kissed her hand. But even though he didn't meet her eyes, his expression startled Paige. How long had he felt this way? How had she never seen it? This young knight loved her, and it wasn't friendship or brotherly love.

Before she could figure out how to handle the situation without embarrassing him, Ed stood up, looking around. "Where is the prince?" Despite his effort, Paige noticed the slight rancor in his voice. She looked at Dr. Horne, but she couldn't tell if he had caught it, too.

"I do fear that our good prince finds himself in some sort of quandary that I little understand," Horne said, with a shrewd glance at Paige. He knew that there was something she wasn't telling him about her fight with Mike, and he wished he knew what it was. "Without that understanding, I fear I can tell you but little else."

Ed's mouth tightened for a moment. "Well," he said, struggling not to say anything rude. He swallowed hard before continuing. "If it would help, Princess, I will guard this place for you. My two brothers are fishermen as well, and their wives help take care of the fish we bring in. My sister's been wanting to go out on the boat, but my brothers wouldn't let her, even though she was always the best of us at fishing back in our world. She can take my place in our business here." He paused and met Paige's gaze. "I was given an opportunity to protect you once, and I would like to do so again, if you will have me." He went down on one knee, intoning, "As I have sworn, so shall I do, for as long as my Lady requires it. My life is pledged to the Crown Princess Eliza, and both my life and my sword are hers to use as she deems fit. I shall die in protecting her, and if I fail, I shall die in avenging her. I am her shield and her sword, and will do whatsoever she may require of me."

Paige's mouth went dry. The young knight had made this vow at his knighting ceremony, after all the vows that were required of every knight. For generations, the royal family had encouraged knights to add their own personal vows in addition to the usual knightly vows, if they wished to. But now, knowing that the young man loved her, Paige saw deeper meanings hidden in his words. Whatsoever she may require of him?

Everyone was staring at her, not seeming to have noticed Ed's adoring eyes. Paige shook herself and smiled. She hoped she wasn't trembling. When she signed, Dr. Horne translated.

"You are once again bound to the Princess, young Sir Knight, and she is vowing to not make a waste of your life or your sword, which you have pledged to her. She will remember you with honor if you should be perishing in defense of her life, and should you fail in that, yet succeed in the avenging of herself, her spirit will rest in peace for it. Your Lady vows to be not requiring anything that will contradict your Knightly Virtues, and shall endeavor to not require any deed which would be otherwise distasteful to your ethics."

Paige swallowed. Her wording had not been quite as formal as all that, but Nerean had always felt very strongly that human formalities must be properly observed when the situation demanded. Since the young man was already a knight, it didn't make sense to continue the ceremony further, so Paige improvised. She gestured for Ed to stand, then gave him a small curtsy, to which he bowed deeply. The admiration in the young man's eyes made Paige nervous.

* * *

><p>A knock at the door startled Eliza, even though she had been expecting it. She had let the wick in the oil lamp burn down a bit, as if she had been dozing. When she opened the door a crack to peer into the hallway, it was Ryan, so she let him in. He barely even glanced around the room, but Eliza was sure he had noticed the lamp, and she tried to look like she'd been sleeping.<p>

"I was thinking of heading to bed in a short while, Eli," Ryan said, pushing the door almost shut behind him.

Rubbing her eyes, Eliza asked, "Has Elrick arrived yet?"

"No," Ryan answered, pursing his lips. It wasn't like the boy to stay with his family this long, but it _was_ only 9:30. Probably the boy had lost track of time. Or perhaps his brother's wife was having the baby, and Elrick had stayed to help, or run to fetch the doctor. "No doubt he will be along shortly – er, Eli," Ryan said. He swallowed. He had almost called her Princess! It seemed he was more worried about the young man than he had realized.

Eliza yawned, and it was much easier to fake it this time. Lying around waiting had made her feel tired. "I think I should retire now, Ryan," she said. "I would rather you not wake me when Elrick does return. If he is late and it makes our journey more difficult for him in the morning, it will be his own fault, and I, for one, wish to be well rested." She paused for a moment, looking pensive. "It has been longer than usual since the last time I visited the manor," she said softly. It wouldn't do to have anyone overhear something that would contradict their story.

Smiling, Ryan spoke softly as well, his voice gruff. "I know, but you'll see your brothers on the morrow." Drawing her close, he kissed her forehead gently. Ryan had never married, but if he had ever had a daughter, he imagined she would have been very much like Eliza. "Sleep well," he said before leaving.

Eliza was left saying, "And you as well," to the door as Ryan closed it behind himself. His gruff tenderness made her feel guilty about what she was planning to do, but she shook it off. She told herself that what he did not know could not cause him pain, and she certainly had no intention of being discovered.

* * *

><p>Matilda felt a little silly, but Mike had encouraged her to put up posters. First, though, she wanted to talk to David, since he seemed to have taken charge. She had checked the sheriff's station, but he wasn't there, so she stopped into Granny's and asked if anyone knew where he was. Mary Margaret's apartment, where he was currently living, was closer than the mines, so she decided to check there first.<p>

When David answered the door, his hair was still damp from the shower, and his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a white tank top underneath. "Mat!" he said, surprised. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," she said, flushing slightly. "I just – I'm looking for my axe, and I was going to put up some posters."

"Your... axe?" David looked confused. "Who were you in the Enchanted Forest?"

Matilda stood a little straighter. "Muffet."

David blinked. "As in that nursery rhyme in this world, or that Wolf-slayer I've heard tell of?"

"I guess you could say both," she replied, frowning slightly. She didn't like to be reminded that she had let a spider frighten her so, no matter how big it had been. But if he dared to call her "Little Miss Muffet," she was going to punch him.

"Wow. You're a lot shorter than I thought you'd be." David winced, realizing too late that he probably shouldn't have said that.

But Matilda took it in stride. "Yeah, that disappoints me too, sometimes," she said with a straight face, but the corner of her mouth twitched. She wasn't overly short, but she was a bit shorter than most of the women in Storybrooke. "But the point is, my axe is enchanted. With it, I can defeat any opponent, even if I am outnumbered. But somehow, even though it was in my hand when the Curse struck, I don't have it now." She handed him one of the flyers she'd made up. "This is what it looks like. I'm hardly an artist, but that should be good enough that anyone who sees my axe should recognize it." She paused for a moment, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry, David."

"What for?" He looked up from the flyer, confused.

Matilda grimaced. "If I'd had my axe, I could have fought the wraith. I'm not sure a creature like that can be killed, but if I had fought it, I _would_ have defeated it. I might have been able to save Emma and Mary Margaret. But I was too busy wallowing in self-pity to even notice that the wraith was attacking, let alone look for my axe."

"If I heard correctly," David said softly, "you became what you are today because Wolfs killed your entire village. When the Curse broke, we all regained our memories, including the bad ones. You've had more than your share of bad times, and you had no one to turn to when all that came crashing back down." David set the flyer aside and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No one could blame you for grieving. But Emma and Snow are strong, both of them. Either _I'll_ find _them_, or they'll find their own way back. I have faith in that."

Matilda swallowed. "I hope you're right, David. But sometimes, people go away and they don't come back."

"That's not the case here," David said, smiling reassuringly. He kept his own insecurities from his face; just because he believed that he would be reunited with Emma and Mary Margaret didn't mean that he didn't worry about them. "But anyway, your axe. If I see it, or if I hear anything that might help you find it, I'll let you know right away, okay?"

"Thanks," Matilda said. "I hope they make it back, David. I really do."

David smiled again. "Thanks, Mat. I hope you find your axe."

Matilda just smiled and nodded her thanks before leaving.

Looking at the clock, David realized he was going to be late.

* * *

><p>Matilda was less than a block away from David's apartment when she saw Gold walking down the street toward her. She swallowed and frowned. Could he possibly have her axe? But that would be a last resort. She didn't want to know what price he would exact to give it back to her, but if he <em>was<em> the one who had it, there would definitely be some kind of price, even though she'd paid for the axe once before. He'd probably call it a "storage fee" or some such nonsense.

Keeping her eyes fixed on a random signpost further up the road, she set about ignoring him. But apparently, Gold had other ideas.

"Matilda," he said. He sounded… _odd_ today. Almost desperate.

"What do you want, Gold," she said tersely. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Please, this'll only take a minute." He unfolded a piece of paper. Much to Matilda's surprise, there was a drawing of a woman on it. "Have you seen this woman? Her name is Belle, and she's missing."

Matilda eyed the paper. The woman was quite pretty, if this drawing was any good. She hadn't seen the woman, but she wasn't about to tell Gold that. "Do you have my axe?"

Gold looked surprised at the sudden change of subject. "Your axe? No, I'm afraid I don't have it."

"Well, then," Matilda said dismissively, walking away, "I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Wait," Gold said, barely able to disguise the urgency in his voice, but Matilda just kept walking.

Gold stared after her for a moment. It had been like that all over town. No one would give him the time of day, let alone help him find Belle. But there was one person in all of Storybrooke who might help, who could understand what he was going through.

He had actually been heading for this building when he saw Matilda. Gold climbed the stairs and, before knocking on the apartment door, took a deep breath. He didn't like having to ask for help, but he would do anything for Belle.

* * *

><p>"Wait, Paige?" Sammi was shocked. "<em>Paige<em> is the Blueberry Princess?" She leaned back in the booth. "That must make Mike her betrothed, from the Wolfsbane Kingdom."

"I don't know," Miles answered. "I didn't meet him. I kind of got the feeling that there's something weird going on there, but they didn't really talk about it in front of me."

Sammi shook herself. In the other world, she had been taught all about the other two kingdoms. All of the factions, not just the Royalists, had heard rumors that when the Blueberry Princess wed King Tristan's brother, the two kingdoms would attack, intending to destroy the warring kingdom between. Felix – she still couldn't think of the man as her father, even now – Felix had cautioned her that she must try to reunite the factions before that day came, because a nation that could not stand together against foreign armies was a nation that would perish.

But Paige seemed like such a sweet girl. Sammi could hardly credit the wilder rumors, the ones Felix had sworn came from his most trusted informants. Paige didn't seem like a woman who could order the complete annihilation of an entire kingdoms-worth of people.

But Sammi, or Norah, as she had been in that world, had done what she could. Her betrothal to Robert had soothed some of the other factions, especially when Felix held a ceremony passing the responsibility of ruling onto her. Well, into her temporary care for her future husband, at any rate. She wasn't able to unify the land before the Curse struck, but she was almost as close as Felix had been. But was it worth it? And would anyone even follow her now that she had been reunited with Liam?

The moment she had seen him again, she knew that she loved him. She couldn't think why she hadn't known that before. And here in Storybrooke, Mark had broken up with her. Now that they all remembered who they were, she definitely did not want to make up with him. She was happier without that accursed betrothal hanging over her head. She gave a heavy sigh.

"Penny for your thoughts," Miles said, pretending to be nonchalant. He really wanted to know, though, so he could help to ease her stress.

"Oh, just… I can't help but wonder if it's all worth it." She sipped her lemonade, not really tasting it.

"If what's worth it?"

"Everything I was doing back in our world," Sammi replied. "Trying to pull the factions together and make them stop fighting. I don't… I don't know if I can be the person who fixes all this, and I _know_ Robert is far too selfish."

"Speaking of which," Miles said, uncertainty tinging his voice, "are you… I mean, in our world, you were… well, going to wed him. Is that…" He stopped and swallowed. He suddenly couldn't finish what he was trying to say.

But Sammi understood. "Well, here in this world, he broke up with me. I mean, that's while we were still Cursed and didn't know why we were engaged, but it's been a long time since I've been this happy, and that's because I realized that I don't _want_ to marry him. He's just so… arrogant, and self-centered. I don't want to spend the rest of my life with a man like that, and I believe it would be _wrong_ to hand the kingdom over to him. He doesn't deserve that much power and influence, and I believe he would misuse it."

Miles gave a soft laugh. "Are you sure you're not just trying to convince yourself?"

Sammi laughed, too. "Actually, I hadn't really thought about it like this before, so I'm kind of just saying whatever pops into my head. And as I say it, I realize just how true it is."

After a long breath to try to calm himself, Miles asked, "So… I was wondering… I mean, hoping…" He stopped and shook his head. "I really like you, Norah. I think I love you, and I just wanted to know how you felt." There, it was out in the open. He watched her anxiously.

Sammi smiled, relieved. "Good! I feel the same," she said. "Even before the Curse, I couldn't get you off my mind, and back then I wasn't sure why, but as soon as I saw you again, I knew. You're my one true love, and I want to be with you."

Miles leaned over the table, and Sammi moved to meet him. They kissed, and it was rather awkward because of the table between them, but neither of them cared. Ruby came out with their lunches just then, and smiled.

"Well, you two look happy," the pretty waitress remarked. "Did you guys just find each other again?"

"Yeah," said Sammi, grinning from ear to ear. "And he's much better than the guy I was with before."

Ruby just smiled politely. She didn't know Mark that well, but she vividly remembered the day that Sammi and Mark had argued here in the diner. It wasn't any of her business to make assumptions about anyone, but she did say, "Well, you certainly seem much happier now. Congratulations, I guess? On finding each other, I mean."

They both blushed slightly and grinned like idiots, thanking her.

* * *

><p>Once Ryan left, Eliza pulled the bundle of clothes out from under the table. She unlaced the plain white cords from the legs of her pantalets and took the dark green ribbons out of her hair to re-lace the legs, and loosened the drawstring running through the neck of her smock so that it would be wide enough to bare her shoulders. Then she took the corset, which was laced quite loosely, and stepped into it so she could pull it up over her legs, wiggling a bit to get it over her hips. She adjusted the smock and pulled the skirt and her boots on before she started to tighten the corset's laces, which were on the front.<p>

As soon as she was dressed, she put out the light and sat on the edge of the bed, undoing her braids by touch. She combed out her hair with her fingers, then lay down to wait.

Before long, she heard footsteps, and Ryan's voice. "Eli?" He whispered softly. He waited before repeating himself, but Eliza still didn't answer. After a long moment, she heard him walk away. His room was on the other side of the inn, and now that he thought she was in bed, he would retire as well. Eliza waited another minute or two before easing out of bed. Moving as quietly as she could, she opened the window and stuck her head out. The roof of the pantry was directly under her window. She smiled. This was going to be easy.

* * *

><p>It hadn't taken much to convince the tavern's owner to let her sing a few songs. Eliza had managed to slip away from Ryan's vigilant watch and visit this seedy tavern four out of the last five times they had stopped in this town, although always still in her disguise as a young man. But it was only the last time that they had found the perfect rooms to make sneaking out even easier.<p>

Each time she'd been here before, she noticed that the girl who sang bawdy songs on the raised stage took a break to eat around 11 o'clock at night. The men, and the few tough, hard-eyed women, who drank and diced here tended to get quite rowdy during the singer's absence, so Eliza's offer to sing was welcomed. At first, the owner had been suspicious that Eliza only asked for a mug of ale and a few coins in exchange, but she told the man that she'd never sung in a tavern before, and felt it wouldn't be fair to expect anything more.

For the half hour before the regular singer's break, Eliza sipped her ale. It was supposed to have been flavored with blueberries, but the only thing she could taste was sour ale.

When the time came, Eliza gulped down the last of her ale before stepping up onto the stage. Her head spun slightly for a moment; clearly the ale was stronger than she'd realized, but she didn't care. She was about to sing in a tavern. She turned to face the crowd.

The men were making loud whooping noises and whistling, and she heard more than one shout to let them see her legs. She gave a cheeky smirk before starting right into her first song. It was called "Caviar." She sang the chorus first:

"Caviar comes from a virgin sturgeon;  
>A virgin sturgeon's a mighty fine fish!<br>No good sturgeon wants to be a virgin,  
>That's why caviar's a very rare dish!"<p>

As she started into the first verse, she swished her skirt around, letting her legs show up to the knee. It wasn't as if they could actually see anything, not with her pantalets on.

"I fed caviar to my grandma,  
>She was nearly ninety-three.<br>Shrieks and squeals were heard from Grandpa  
>As she chased him up a tree!"<p>

As she sang the chorus again, she drank in the feel of all those eyes on her. She had always enjoyed performing in front of others, but here, she was just a girl singing a dirty song, and if they didn't like it, they would let her know it. She sang the second verse.

"I fed caviar to the rooster,  
>I fed caviar to the cow.<br>The barnyard's starting to look funny;  
>All the cows have feathers now!"<p>

The chorus came around again, and Eliza wondered if the patrons were cheering for the song itself or for the generous amount of cleavage she was displaying. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps men liked it when busty girls sang bawdy songs. The third verse went:

"I fed caviar to my intended;  
>He was a virgin, tried and true.<br>Now that he has tasted caviar,  
>There's not a thing that he won't do!"<p>

She sang the chorus again, feeling giddy and excited. She had known she could do this, but if she had even dreamt of telling anyone she knew, they would have tried to talk her out of it, or forbidden her to do it.

"I put caviar in the punchbowl,  
>It livened up the party, sure.<br>When did I get stripped down naked?  
>I thought these boys were sweet and pure!"<p>

The men seemed to go wild at that last line, and even as she sang the chorus twice more, she could hear their shouts, all of which proved that they were anything but sweet and pure. She wasn't even sure some of the suggestions she heard were physically possible. Her face felt hot.

Just as she finished the song, she noticed two men sharing a small table in the back. They were wearing their cloaks, and both had their hoods up. They were watching the dicing games, most likely. They probably intended to wait for one of the winners to stagger out, so they could follow him and rob him of his winnings. She felt like she should put a stop to it, but she wasn't the princess tonight. Tonight, she was just a girl, singing songs with naughty lyrics to a roomful of drunken men.

As she started her next song, she tried to put the robbers out of her mind, turning her eyes away quickly whenever her glance fell on them. But something about them, especially the taller one, made her skin crawl.

* * *

><p>When the regular singer took over again, the girl smiled and thanked Eliza, but it looked like she had to force herself. Eliza accepted the thanks as graciously as she could, but she was immensely proud and she was afraid it showed. The girl's face turned quite unfriendly for a moment as they passed, Eliza leaving the stage while the other girl climbed back up.<p>

The fact that the girl was so jealous meant that Eliza had done very well indeed. The girl probably feared for her job, which was, of course, unnecessary. But right now, Eliza felt like she was dancing on the wind. Even the tavern-keeper seemed to feel she had done well; he offered her a meal and another pint of ale, all on the house. He didn't offer any more money, though, and Eliza caught the shrewd look in his eye. She could tell that he knew she deserved much more than she'd been given, but that he thought she would never realize it for herself. He thought he was pulling one over on her, but Eliza didn't care.

She had had fun, and she might do it again some time, but for now it was enough to know that she could do it. If she ever found herself in a position where she had to support herself, she would not starve. Not that she truly believed she would ever end up in that situation, but still, it gave her a sense of accomplishment.

When the food came out, it was hardly the best cut of mutton, but the cook had spiced it well, and the potatoes and vegetables tasted good. The small jug of gravy smelled awful and tasted worse, though, so Eliza ate her food dry, wetting her throat with the ale. Before she knew it, her mug was empty, but before she could take her just-earned coins out of her purse, a harried-looking serving wench brought her a new mug.

"Courtesy of that fellow, over there," the woman murmured, gesturing. When Eliza looked, the man was watching. He was huge; not fat or anything, just broad and covered in muscle. There was a scar down the right side of his face, just missing the outside corner of his eye. His dark hair was lank and looked a bit greasy, and his skin was tanned and dirty. He looked rather unsavory, but he _had_ bought her another ale, so she lifted the mug and nodded in his direction before taking a swig. She wasn't sure why, but the ale seemed less vile than before. Perhaps she was getting used to it.

She watched the man out of the corner of her eye as she finished her meal. He was with two other men, neither of whom were as large or as muscled as himself, although one was badly scarred. It looked like he had been severely burned.

The big man kept glancing at her, then making comments to his friends. Comments that seemed to make them laugh, but it didn't seem like very nice laughter. She tried to ignore them.

By the time she'd finished eating, her mug was empty again. Almost before she set the mug down, the serving woman brought another pint, from the same man. Eliza accepted it, pushing down the sudden nervous feeling. The man was probably just trying to show his appreciation for her performance. She gulped down almost half the mug in one go, hoping it would help her feel less uneasy.

While she had her face buried in her mug, she didn't see the woman serve the big man and his friends another round. She never noticed how casually he reached out and fondled the woman, or the resigned way the woman flinched and tried to shift out of his reach without forcibly removing his hands from her body.

But the two cloaked and hooded men in the back of the room watched it all.

* * *

><p>As Dr. Horne reached for some of the papers he and Paige were going over, he bumped the table against Paige's stomach. She drew back and put a protective hand over her belly in a way that struck him as odd. Then he blinked, all the pieces suddenly falling together in his mind.<p>

"Sweet girl, perhaps we should go forth and acquire some lunch," he said. "My stomach, he is growling with fierce anger that I have yet to be feeding him."

**Yeah, I'm getting hungry, too,** Paige signed. She wondered why Horne was acting so strange suddenly. **I brought some leftovers from home,** she added.

Horne needed to have the term "leftovers" translated for him. "As muchly as I do enjoy your cooking, I was thinking of purchasing food for you at Granny's," he said. "And besides, if the young knight is being finished with his visit here, he will be needing a ride back to his truck. As I am understanding it, Jane brought him here herself, and his truck, it was left at the grocery store."

Jane, walking by, overheard that last comment and said, "Yes, I drove him out here, so he _will_ need a ride back. I was going to take him, but if you two are headed for town, anyway… I mean, if that's okay with you."

After Paige nodded, Horne said, "It is being not a problem in the slightest, my dear," he told Jane.

* * *

><p>Paige felt awkward when Ed opened her door and leaned into the front seat of Horne's car to give her a hug. She swallowed, but before she could try to gently push him away, he drew back. "I'll talk to my brothers this afternoon, Paige," he said, his voice seeming to caress her Curse-name. "And I'll be at the Farm bright and early. If you don't feel you need a guard, I will help out in any way that I can." He smiled eagerly and sincerely. "Well, see you, Paige. Dr. Horne."<p>

Horne waited while Ed drove away. Paige noticed that he was acting odd again, and she stared at his profile as he put the car in gear. She wondered what was wrong. Neither of them noticed Mike standing by the picnic table that was there for employees to use, his lunch forgotten as he stared at Paige.

Pulling around the side of the building, Horne stopped the car along the blank wall. No one behind the store could see them unless they were trying to drive out, and there hadn't been any trucks unloading in the back, so it wasn't likely to happen any time soon. And the section of parking lot ahead of them was the farthest from the store's entrance, and as such was designated as the employee parking area, so it didn't see as much traffic as the rest of the parking lot.

After a long moment of silence, Horne asked, "How far along are you?"

Paige swallowed. She had known that Horne would find out sooner or later, but she'd rather hoped it would be later. **Twenty-one weeks,** she signed.

"So," Horne said, digesting this. He hadn't realized she was so far along. "That is meaning you would have conceived approximately when Time started again, yes?" When Paige nodded, he asked, "Did the conceiving happen in our world, perhaps? Just before the Curse was being cast?"

Paige looked down. She nodded, unable to find words to explain herself.

"Then you must be wedding your prince with all possible haste, sweet girl."

Blinking rapidly, Paige swallowed. That was so far from what she had expected to hear that she couldn't think how to respond. But Horne wasn't finished.

"I must be confessing to you that I had not even realized that you and your prince had… been deciding to take your relationship to such lengths," he said primly.

At first, Paige thought that he was being prudish, but he was a faun, not a human. Fauns chose partners for life, but they didn't seem to feel a need to make as much ado over it as humans. There was no such thing as a marriage ceremony among fauns. Paige wondered if fauns ever had sex before choosing their life-long partner.

**It's… complicated,** she signed.

"Well, that being as it may, this distance between you must be crossed." Horne frowned briefly, but it seemed more in response to his own inward thoughts than directed at Paige. "It is being quite understandable, wishing to consummate your love before the taking of an action which could, perhaps, be separating you." His tone suggested that there was a "but" coming. However, much to Paige's surprise, he stopped there.

She suddenly realized what was wrong. Horne thought that she and Andrew had had sex before she and her father went out to perform the spell, and he felt that he should have known that it had happened. At first, she felt a sense of relief. He didn't realize that her prince was not the father! But the relief turned quickly to dread. She would have to tell him the truth eventually. Then she realized what he had said earlier and frowned.

**What do you mean, I have to marry him with all possible haste?**

Horne sighed. "This law I am about to be telling you of was not yet included in your instruction for two muchly good reasons," he started. She gathered that he was expecting an explosion of her temper when she heard what he had to say. "Firstly being that there was much else for you to be learning, and also for such reason as it was deemed you were… not likely to have the need for such knowledge, based upon your disposition."

Paige watched him warily. What on earth was he so nervous about telling her? When the silence began to stretch out, she signed, **Please, good Doctor, what **_**is**_** it?**

Horne had to clear his throat before he could speak. "It brings me much embarrassment to be only telling you of this law _because_ of your… current condition," he said, "but this law is being nearly as old as your kingdom, sweet girl. This law, it is stating that… that any child born to an unwed ruler or heir to a ruler cannot be taking the throne."

Paige licked her lips. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? But before she could ask, he began to speak again.

"This law was being written by the third ruler of the kingdom. His daughter was… found to be very against the idea of marriage, which seems to have muchly appalled her father. It has been told that she was even planning to simply select a man like a horse breeder is selecting a stud for his mare, and become with child by him. After which, as the histories are indicating, she meant never to see him again. Like the stallion picked for breeding, who is being sent back to his owner once the broodmare carries his seed. As for the princess's father, he was being of the opinion that a family, as defined by you humans, was a necessary and wholesome thing. And I feel I must be telling to you, I am finding myself in very much agreement with him. While fauns marry not, we raise children in similar manner to your marriage technique – mother and father both are working together to instruct and guide our younglings." He stopped and took a deep breath. "But I am having a digression." He shook his head as if to clear it. "The law, it is stating that no child borne out of your human wedlock may ascend the throne. Any heir _must_ come into this world from a mother who has a husband, regardless of which parent is being the current ruler or heir to said ruler."

Paige sat back in the passenger seat. Her mind was reeling as she processed this information. From the way Horne talked, it sounded like it applied to male heirs as well, which, given the equality that was a large part of her kingdom's foundation, made perfect sense. But more than that, this might be exactly what she and Mike needed. She knew Mike wasn't best pleased by the idea that Gold's child would inherit the throne, and now she knew that it was possible to make sure that couldn't happen.

But at the same time, she wasn't sure she could do that to the tiny girl-child growing inside her. Her hands went to her stomach in a protective gesture. Did she want to condemn the girl to watch a younger sibling reared for the duties of the throne? What kind of jealousy and hurt feelings might that cause? But if Mike refused to marry her before she gave birth… who, then, _would_ she marry? Sir Elrick, the young man who made her feel so very uncomfortable? Certainly not Gold. One of Jane Blue's sons? They were handsome young men, but she felt as if they might as well be her own brothers.

Swallowing, Paige realized that Horne was waiting for a response. **I… I don't know what to say. But… I have to think about this, about what it all means. And I'll definitely have to talk to Mike.**

Horne looked incredulous. "I am being quite unsure of why you could possibly feel you must think this over, Princess." He even sounded shocked. "However, if that is what you are feeling a need to do, then I must counsel swiftness of thought. You are just over halfway to bearing that child into this world, and I would not like to be seeing you suffer your firstborn to the living of a life full of believing he or she is unworthy."

Paige swallowed. That mirrored her own doubts about the situation a little too closely. To change the subject, she signed, **In this world, they have technology that shows the developing child, which they call a fetus. I have a picture, called a sonogram. **She dug into her purse, while Dr. Horne blinked. His Curse memories indicated that Paige was right, but he hadn't even thought of that when he realized she was pregnant. After she handed him the picture, Paige signed, **It's a girl.**

* * *

><p>As soon as Eliza had finished the second pint of ale that the big man bought for her, she stood up, putting the cup down and gathering her plain yet well-made cloak, but she didn't waste time putting it on. She made a line for the door, smiling and thanking the serving woman, who seemed to be bringing her another pint. But Eliza didn't let the woman stop her. That second pint bought by the big man had actually been her fourth pint, counting the two she had earned for her singing.<p>

She was hardly ten steps away from the door when she felt a large hand on her arm. That hand whirled her around before she could react.

"Where do you think you're going, little one?" asked the big man, eying her up and down. He pulled her around the corner of the inn, where a wide alley led back to a rickety barn that was seldom used. Most patrons walked here, or left their horses hitched out front.

"Or _not_ so little," snickered one of his friends. "Isn't she a bit plump for your taste, Dayne?"

The other friend, the scarred man, laughed unpleasantly. "That's a good point there, Hanold," he said. "A good point, indeed." They stopped in the cobbled yard between the kitchen and the barn.

Eliza wished she hadn't drunk so much ale. She felt a little unsteady, and it wasn't all from this unexpected attack. She opened her mouth, but Dayne pulled her close to him, spinning her halfway around so that her back was pressed against his chest. His hand covered the lower half of her face, and Eliza tried, too late, to scream. "Hush, now," Dayne whispered in her ear. "No sense making a fuss, it won't help." Then he spoke to his friends. "It is true that I like them on the thinner side, but you know I get to play with _any_ wench who graces that stage. I earned that right."

The tavern owner came to the kitchen door. "Make sure you keep this one quiet," he said. At Eliza's accusing glare, he gave a half-shrug and a somewhat apologetic glance, but he addressed the big man. "I'll not lie to the Watch for you. That is not part of our agreement."

"Of course, my good man," Dayne said jovially. He frowned at the owner's back as the man scurried back into the kitchen.

Eliza felt the big man lean down to rub his cheek against her hair. "Still, though," he said, continuing the conversation that the owner had interrupted, "I shall take what pleasure I can from her. Hanold, you can just watch if you'd prefer; I know she is not to your taste." His hot breath came against Eliza's ear as he spoke softly to her. "But as for Flame over there, well, he _likes_ them plump. The plumper the better, he says. No one really knows what his name is, you know. Even he doesn't remember. But we call him Flame because he really likes fire."

The scarred man came forward, and his expression made Eliza struggle. He had a candle in his hand. "Ever dripped hot wax on yourself accidentally?" he asked, giving a small, sinister chuckle. "This is going hurt, my plump little sparrow."

Eliza never realized it, but the haze in her head cleared as suddenly as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. Her elbow went sharply back into Dayne's solar plexus, and almost before she elbowed him, she stomped hard on his foot. He tightened his grip on her upper arms, so she smashed her fist directly into his groin. He finally let her go, and she swiveled and grabbed the temporarily-incapacitated man's arm to steady herself as she bent forward and kicked almost straight back, like a donkey. Her foot took Flame in the throat, but not as hard as she'd hoped. He did drop the candle on the cobblestones, though, and it went out.

Hanold came at her and Eliza ran a few steps to meet him, her right arm fixed at a square angle. As they were about to collide, Eliza's clenched fist took him right under the left side of his ribs. She punched forward and up, as if she were trying to punch through him. He doubled over, retching.

When she spun again, both Dayne and Flame had recovered and were coming at her together. She knew that if she tried to fight them both at the same time, she would likely lose, so she ran toward them, ducking between them. She threw herself to the side as soon as she thought she was out of their reach. Dayne was cursing her in a low, threatening voice, but Flame was eerily silent.

She might have gotten into the alley if she hadn't tripped over a partially uprooted cobblestone. But without even trying to get up, she grabbed the stone and wrenched it free. Flame had reached her first, and she slammed the stone onto his foot. He roared in pain, grabbing her hair in his fist. Instead of pulling away, she pushed toward him, scrambling to her feet as she did. She used her momentum to push him right into Dayne, and as the two men fell, Flame let go of her hair, but not before wrenching it painfully.

Lifting the cobblestone high over her head, she flung it down full force onto Flame's stomach, and since he had landed on top of Dayne, both men grunted in pain. She kicked Dayne sharply in the side and turned. Hanold had been attempting to sneak up on her, but when he saw her face, he backed away before turning and running for the street. Eliza chased him a few steps before she heard the other two trying to get up. Readying herself, she turned, but they were helping each other toward the alleyway. All three men disappeared quickly.

Just as she drew a deep breath, she noticed that both of the cloaked men from inside the tavern had eased into the stable yard. She took a moderately wide stance and raised her hands, prepared to fight some more. But she didn't know if she could fight off two more. Her head was starting to ache, and part of her just wanted to curl up in a little ball and cry.

The taller man, closer to her, raised his hands in a placating gesture and backed away, but the shorter man stayed.

"If you're after my purse, you're welcome to it," she said, her voice rough. With one hand, she yanked it from the ring sewn to the inside of the bottom edge of her corset, not caring if she broke the strings. She flung it at the man's feet, but he ignored it. In an angry movement, he jerked the hood of his cloak back. Eliza gasped.

"Elrick?"

"Imagine my surprise when I noticed a girl climbing out of a window as I approached the inn where I'd been told my companions were lodging," the boy said, rather tersely. "And especially when I got a good look at her face." He frowned at her.

Ignoring his lecturing tone, Eliza asked, "Who was that other man with you?" Her stomach, already ill at ease from the ale and the fight, roiled. Had it been Sir Ryan? But why would he have left like that?

"I know not," Elrick said. "I followed you here and took a small table at the back. He came in shortly after and asked to share my table. He left just before me, but was out of sight before I got outside. I didn't even realize he was in this stable yard until he left just now." After a brief pause, he took on a lecturing tone again. "I almost did not find you in time."

"What do you mean, in time? You didn't arrive until I already had them running."

"True," Elrick said, "but what about that other cloaked man? Who knows what mischief he intended?"

* * *

><p>As soon as he backed away, the taller cloaked man swung easily to the roof of the tavern, where he lounged in the shadows and listened to Eliza and Elrick's heated discussion. Rumpelstiltskin's eyes glinted for a moment as he snickered softly to himself. He hadn't gotten a fresh hair sample yet, but just from her actions tonight, he rather suspected that Eliza was perfect for his purposes. He had wondered at first if she could defeat those three rough men, but as the fight had progressed, he realized he would not need to use his magic to aid her.<p>

The squire, four years Eliza's junior, tried to maintain his anger, but Rumpelstiltskin knew that the young man was greatly relieved to find the princess unharmed. He smirked and nearly giggled aloud when the headstrong girl took control.

"Speak of this to no one, squire," she said, the hint of anger hiding her fear that the boy would tell others. "I will be forever in your debt, and in return, I will swear, upon anything you name, that I will _never_ do this sort of thing again." In truth, the girl had been terrified by her encounter with the rougher side of common folk, and Rumpelstiltskin could sense that she would not do this again regardless.

As the two agreed and made their way out of the stable yard, Rumpelstiltskin finally let out a small giggle. There would be other opportunities to acquire her hair. In particular, there would a ball in less than two years; a masked event that the girl had yet to dream up, but it would provide ample opportunity for him to gather the evidence he needed.

* * *

><p>Paige knew it was a dream right away. Not just any dream, but one of Gold's dreams. He wasn't here yet, but she probably only had a moment or so to herself. She decided that she was tired of being Paige. The room was still misty and undefined, and on a sudden whim, Paige changed it to the garden in her father's castle, the one that her mother had loved so. The same one where she had been weeping for her brothers when her father summoned her to meet with Rumpelstiltskin.<p>

A stand mirror appeared, and in it was reflected Eliza, her hair flowing freely to her thighs, with the Blueberry Diadem perched on her head. She was wearing a simple green dress that had been one of her favorites, in spite of its full skirts. Andrew had been very fond of seeing her in green. She caught a reflection of something behind her and the stand mirror vanished before she had even fully turned.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she said softly and uncertainly. He looked lost and alone, and she wasn't accustomed to seeing him like this. Before she spoke, he had been Mr. Gold, but as soon as she used his other name, his impish form stood before her. "What's wrong," she asked, crossing the garden to stand in front of him.

"Belle," he started, his voice rough. But he didn't want to finish that sentence, didn't want to say it aloud.

"What happened," Eliza asked softly, stroking his hair back out of his face.

"She… she never wants to see me again." His face was bleak.

Eliza put her arms around him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"It's – it's my fault," Rumpelstiltskin managed to say, his voice soft. "I couldn't – I said things, hid things from her. I don't even know why I did it. She deserves to know."

Leading him over to a stone bench, Eliza sat down with him. But before she could say anything, he continued.

"I, ah, spoke to Ruby earlier," he said. Eliza wasn't sure why he was changing the subject until he continued. "She said that Belle was quite interested in the library. So I made some inquiries, and I've acquired the key for her." He swallowed. "There's even… there's an apartment above it, for the caretaker. So she won't have to depend on anyone's charity."

Eliza's face was both compassionate and stern. "Rumpelstiltskin, you cannot buy her love. Even with something like this."

"I know. I – I almost wish I could, but then…" His voice trailed off.

Eliza thought she knew what he meant, so she said, "If love could be bought so easily, it wouldn't be worth fighting for."

Rumpelstiltskin gave her a grateful look. He had hoped Paige, or Eliza, he supposed she was right now, would understand. "I won't even tell her it was me. I'll just leave the key at Granny's for her."

Eliza was silent for a moment. "Maybe you _should_ tell her."

"I don't want her to think… what you thought at first," he said. He didn't want Belle to believe that he thought so little of her that he could buy her forgiveness with extravagant gestures or gifts.

"_Tell_ her you don't mean it that way. Tell her that it's because you truly care about her, and if you can, tell her at least some of those things you said she deserves to know. Be as honest with her as you can make yourself be. I know it's hard. I still – there are things Andrew deserves to know that I can't seem to make myself tell him." Like the fact that she had known all along who she really was, and more, who she had been sleeping with. He still thought that she had been as blindly unaware as everyone else. "But if you can tell her even a part of it, that will help. Belle is your true love, and while I can't promise that she'll fall into your arms and forgive you, I _can_ promise you that it will mean the world to her if you can let her in, even just a little bit. If I were in Belle's shoes, and Andrew in yours, I know _I_ would appreciate the honesty."

Rumpelstiltskin gave a mirthless chuckle. "So I guess he's right," he murmured, but when Eliza asked what he meant, he just shook his head. "Something I've heard before, is all. But why honesty? It's never been my strong suit."

Eliza sounded almost surprised. "It's not anyone's," she said. "We're all of us terrified to expose our true selves, especially to someone we love. We're afraid that if they know the truth, if they find out who we really are, they'll stop loving us. More often than not, we're so disgusted by our own perceived faults that we instinctively try to hide them from anyone that we're afraid to lose. That's why honesty is so very powerful. It takes great courage to let someone see us as we truly are, and those we love respond to that honesty by loving us all the more, not because of our faults, and not in spite them, but because we care enough to take that risk."

Not knowing how to respond to what Eliza had just told him, Rumpelstiltskin leaned into her. With his head on her shoulder, his face was pressed against her neck. She put her arms around him without a second thought, and after a long moment, she felt his arms wrap gingerly around her. She held him and stroked his hair, and before long, he was clinging to her. Only his iron resolve kept him from weeping. And he bent that resolve to one purpose: He _must_ be honest with Belle in the morning. She deserved at least that much.

Eliza ached to see Rumpelstiltskin in so much pain. So when she felt a moment of disappointment that nothing fun would be happening tonight, she squashed it almost before it had fully formed. There was always the vibrator, once she had woken up. It wasn't the same, but he needed comfort right now, not sex.

As if he had sensed that thought, Rumpelstiltskin nuzzled Eliza's neck. She felt his lips press against her throat for a moment before they opened so he could suck and nibble on her skin. Her lips parted and she gave a soft, tremulous sigh. "It's okay, Rumple," she said. "You don't have to do this."

"I want to," he murmured against her neck. He brought one hand around to knead one of her breasts. "I want this."

His lips brushing against her skin as he spoke made Eliza shiver deliciously. "But Belle –"

"Isn't here right now," he said, interrupting. "If that changes, or if your young man comes to his senses, then we'll stop. But right now, Eliza, I want this. I want _you_."

She almost wondered if he was only using her for comfort, but then she realized what he meant about Andrew. Eliza knew that if Rumpelstiltskin and Belle truly became a couple, she would not want to jeopardize it for him, even though she would miss him, miss his touch, his body. Even if Andrew forsook her, she would still want Rumpelstiltskin to be happy. And what he had just said made it clear that he felt the same.

Eliza opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was flew out of her mind as he put both arms around her and lifted her up. When she wrapped her legs around his waist for balance, his erection pressed against her, and she felt her cheeks flush. Her breathing grew ragged as they locked glances while he carried her across the garden. His gaze was raw with lust, and with a deeper need. His eyes were telling her that, even if she didn't think of sex as a form of comfort, it was what he needed right now. Somehow, having sex with her would ease his pain. Eliza wasn't sure she could understand that, but if this was what he needed, she would gladly give it to him. For a brief moment, she wondered if what he really craved was her affection, and somehow only intimacy could reassure him that he had it. She leaned her head forward and kissed him gently, tenderly, telling him how much she cared without saying a word. But before the kiss could deepen, she felt him kneel down on the ground.

As he placed her on the grass, they were both suddenly naked. As he had once envisioned, her hair was spread out beneath her, here in this garden where he had watched her say farewell to her brothers for the winter. For a moment, he held himself above her, not touching her at all. Then he lowered his body, kissing her as he pressed himself against her, but not inside, not yet. Her hips began to shift, seemingly of their own accord, rubbing her sweet spot against the length of him. "Oh, Rumpelstiltskin!" she moaned, her lips brushing against his. Yes, this was exactly what he had fantasized about while making that deal with her father.

"You like that, Eliza?" he asked, his voice low and rough. Before she could answer, he worked himself inside of her, listening to the soft, passionate sounds she made as he did so. The lack of foreplay meant that she wasn't as wet as usual, but he took it slow, pushing all the way in only to pull himself back out. He worked his hips, rubbing himself against her sweet spot again, then slid all the way in, slowly, and pulled back out again. He wanted this encounter to last as long as possible.

* * *

><p>When Paige woke in her bed in Storybrooke, still writhing as her last orgasm faded, her breath was shaky and uneven. He had worked her over so thoroughly that she had felt like she was going crazy from the pleasure. She couldn't even remember how many orgasms she'd had. <em>That, <em>she thought to herself, _is what they mean when they talk about having your mind totally blown._ It had been amazing, and she found herself wondering if it would be their last time. If Belle was able to forgive Mr. Gold, things might change drastically. But even though she would be sad to have it all end, she knew, as she had known in the dream, that she could not be selfish enough to want him to risk his happiness for her.

She yawned and rolled over, not bothering to get out of bed and clean herself up. She was too tired, and besides, she wasn't sure her legs would support her just yet, even though it had only been a dream. She fell almost immediately into a more restful, regular sleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Gold slipped into the lobby of the Inn side of Granny's when he knew there would be no one there. He left a small box at the front desk, and as he left, he rang the little bell next to the door. His heart was breaking as he prepared to say goodbye to Belle, but Paige and David were right. She deserved to at least know the truth.<p>

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Crocodile."

The song "Caviar" can be heard at many Renaissance Faires; some of the lyrics I used here are lyrics I've heard at the Ren Faire I go to every year, and some I got from various websites, and some I tweaked a bit myself.

Please Review!


	26. S2 Ch5 - Goldilocks

Sorry this took so long. I've been working on my cosplay costume for Otakon - I'll be going as Belle from Disney's Beauty and the Beast, and also from the Kingdom Hearts games. I've been doing a lot of custom pattern drafting, which is new to me, but it's going well so far. I still have to actually _make_ the costume, though, so it may continue to slow me down on my writing... sorry about that!

Anyway, as usual, I own no rights to ABC's characters, plotlines, etc...

There is a scene where Paige is having a "conversation" with someone who does not know sign language, so she writes out her part of the conversation in a notebook. Her words are both italicized and underlined to represent that.

And this is actually the longest chapter yet - this chapter incorporates a new fairy tale, and there was just so much to do! I even cut one long scene to use at the beginning of the next chapter, and it's _still_ the longest chapter so far!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On:"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Muffet loses everything. Her entire village is destroyed by Wolfs, including her beloved – or so she believes. When she begs assistance from King Tristan, she discovers that his forces are overwhelmed, so Muffet tries to join the king's army, even though it is illegal for women join. Prince Andrew catches on to her deception, but instead of revealing her secret, he sends her away, giving her the name of someone who might be able to help – Rumpelstiltskin.

In the Dark Castle, Muffet gives up a blood-soaked handkerchief, her only memento of Locke, in exchange for an axe, and is told to find a certain hermit who will teach her to wield it.

After learning the necessary skills, Muffet sets out to kill Wolfs, and is eventually hired as a mercenary by Prince Andrew, to aid in the fight against Wolfs.

~In Storybrooke, Paige's pregnancy has been discovered by Dr. Horne. He tells her that, if she is not married when the child is born, the child will be ineligible for the throne.

Paige is lying to those closest to her, about her relationship with Mr. Gold, and about who is the father of her child. Where she has not actually lied, she has let people believe lies because it seems more convenient for her. However, even before the Curse is broken, she starts to feel guilty about it, and she has just recently advised Mr. Gold to be honest with Belle, telling him that honesty is vital to a relationship.

Meanwhile, Matilda discovers that Caleb Johnson, proprietor of a shop selling herbs and natural remedies, is the Storybrooke counterpart of the man she knows only as Teacher. He reveals that he has heard that, in the Land That Was, she stopped fighting Wolfs approximately two years prior to the casting of the Dark Curse, but he doesn't know why, or what she was doing during those two years after she stopped killing Wolfs…

* * *

><p>Muffet hadn't realized she was so close to civilization again, but when she crested the rise and saw a little village spread out at the bottom of the hill, it brought a tear to her eye. This village was a bit smaller than her beloved Thornwood, and had likely never known the depravation of a Wolf attack. It had been almost three weeks since she had last seen even old, fading traces of Wolf habitation. Even so, the sight of the small village was enough to make her bitter about the promise she had made. She sorely wished that she had been allowed to eradicate the foul abominations from the face of the earth.<p>

She wondered if she had gone far enough to leave the Wolfsbane kingdom behind. But travel in the woods was slower than travel over more tamed land, so perhaps not. Someone in this village could tell her if they had a king or not. Or a queen, if she had gone far enough to reach the Blueberry kingdom. Although Andrew had said he was engaged to a Crown Princess, so maybe that kingdom wouldn't have a queen just now.

Muffet had decided to leave Wolf territory so that she wouldn't be tempted to continue her crusade. She had given her word. Much as she might wish she hadn't, she could admit, at least grudgingly, that it had been the right thing to do. But it was hard, knowing exactly where those foul creatures cowered with their tails between their legs, terrified of her, a slender 21-year-old who looked like a teenaged girl. So she had put as much distance as she could between herself and the diminished Wolf territory.

As she started down the hill toward the village, she thought to herself how peaceful and quiet it looked from this distance. Of course, she knew from experience that once she got into the village, there would be the normal bustle of people about their business. And it seemed like every village had to have at least one family feud, and usually old grudges that still simmered. But as she approached the village, she felt something more. Almost a feel of fear, as if some unseen evil was watching. She had felt something like this before, in the villages plagued by Wolf raids, but she was almost certain that couldn't be the case here.

The villagers felt it, too – children still ran and played, as children do, but the adults watched them far too closely, and sharply ordered them back if they strayed too far in their games. And most children would hardly let that daunt them, but when those sharp calls came, these boys and girls scurried back, close to their parents. Something was amiss here, and Muffet found herself wondering if she could do something to help. But before she could find someone who was willing to tell a stranger where to find the mayor, or to at least gossip about the doings of the town, an old woman hobbled by, struggling with a large sack of potatoes.

"Here," Muffet said, "let me help you with that." She couldn't understand why none of the men hurrying along the street were offering assistance, but maybe it had to do with whatever was wrong in this place.

When the old woman saw Muffet clearly, she protested, "Oh, a young girl like you shouldn't be hefting potatoes. I'll be fine." Turning away, she nearly dropped them.

"No, you won't," Muffet said. "Trust me, I can handle this. Can't be any heavier than this thing," she added jokingly, hefting her axe. With one hand, Muffet swung the sack over her shoulder so she could support it on her back, still carrying her battle axe in the other hand.

"My, my," the old woman said, "You're a strong young thing, yes?"

Ducking her head slightly in embarrassment, Muffet said, "I'm actually not as young as I look, ma'am."

"Not as young as you look?" the old lady repeated. "Not as young? _How_ not-as-young? If you don't mind an old woman's foolish questions, dear," she added self-deprecatingly.

"Oh, no," Muffet said, even though she felt a little odd. It was only the feel of this town. As the old woman led her along a hard-packed dirt road leading to the edge of town, she said, "Most people think I am in my teen years, but I am actually one and twenty."

"One and twenty!" The woman seemed startled. "One and twenty?" Muffet nodded. "So old," the old woman murmured to herself. She kept muttering, sometimes sounding quite cross, but Muffet couldn't make out more than a word here or there. It almost sounded like the woman was arguing with herself.

"Ah," the old woman said suddenly. "Here we are!" She opened the door to a small hovel. The floor was dirt, and it looked like there were only two rooms. There was no second floor, and grubby swaths of material had been hung in the rafters, to try to keep in as much heat from the fireplace as possible – it was still early in the springtime and the nights were sometimes cold. In the corner by the fireplace, there was another large piece of dirty cloth covering what might have a small table or a large chest.

In the very center of the room stood a table not much different than the one in Muffet's parents' kitchen, although this table looked like it hadn't seen a polishing cloth in years. It also had some nicks and strange grooves on it, especially along the edges. A poorly-made pottery jar sat on the table, holding wooden spoons of various sizes.

"Just put those on the table, please, dear," the woman said. She looked around the room, seeming tense. Muffet wondered what she was looking for. If an old woman was left to carry bags much too heavy for her, and seemed almost afraid to enter her own house, there was _definitely _something wrong here.

"Please," Muffet said, "I know I'm not from around here, but it just seems like there is something… _wrong_ here. I'd like to help, if I can. Do you know anyone who could tell me what's going on here, and if there's anything I can do?" The woman eyed her shrewdly. Muffet added, "Maybe you could tell me?"

"Oh, I know what is wrong here," the old woman said. The sense of menace increased – not by a lot, but enough for Muffet to notice. "There is a hag in this town. She eats naughty children who talk to strangers. Strangers like you. Perhaps _you_ are the hag, though why you'd look to me for a meal, I cannot guess." This was not the story that the villagers believed, but the old woman knew that no one had dared tell Muffet anything. The girl would never know the difference. The old woman's tone became almost whiny as she said, "Surely I'm far too tough a morsel for one used to eating children." Her voice more normal, she continued, "Then again, you _are _young, looks like you've got all your teeth." She sounded almost jealous about the teeth.

"Hold on," Muffet said, backing away with her hands raised to show she wasn't a danger. "I'm not a hag, and I do_ not_ eat children! Or people of any age!" She had not expected a reaction like this. Suddenly, she realized she still held her axe. The old woman probably thought Muffet was going to kill her! Very slowly, Muffet swung the axe off to the side, lowering it carefully. She meant to put it on the floor, but since she wasn't looking behind her, she hit the leg of the table, hard. Instinctively, she dropped the axe and whirled, trying to catch the table in case she was knocking it over.

"Don't!" screamed the old woman.

Muffet grabbed the table, but the jar of wooden spoons fell over, and a small one sized for eating fell to the floor, barely making a sound. Something else hit, too, with a loud thunk. Turning back to the woman, Muffet said, "I'm so sorry!"

The old woman looked panicked for a moment, then a crafty expression came over her face. "Could you pick up that spoon for me, dear? My old knees don't bend as they ought, any longer."

With a relieved look, Muffet said, "Of course!" She bent over. Her honey-brown braid, just short of her waist, fell over her shoulder. The silver spoon glinted in the light filtering in from a hole in the waxed paper that sealed one of the windows. Glancing to the side, Muffet saw that the thing in the corner, with the cloth thrown over it, was not completely covered. It seemed to be made of… bars? And underneath the table, not far from Muffet, was a small, iron manacle on one end of a chain that ran through a metal ring on the underside of the table. Looking up, Muffet saw another shackle at the other end of that chain, and two more shackles at the far end of the table. The other shackles were tied tightly to the underside of the table so they wouldn't fall, but it looked like the ties on this side had been simply torn when her axe bumped the table. Muffet gaped. What had she gotten herself into?

Her body had continued its mission to retrieve the spoon, even though Muffet's attention was elsewhere. She was startled to feel the cool silver under her hand, and she looked down. The spoon looked… familiar. But at the same time, it felt wrong, somehow.

The girl gave a loud gasp and stood suddenly. Her golden braid swung as she turned her head swiftly. There was an old woman with a strange look on her face. "How… how did I get here?" the girl asked. She no longer knew who she was, either.

"Why, my dear girl," the old woman said, "you carried my potatoes. And a kinder soul I've never met. But really, I mustn't keep you, surely a pretty young thing like you has better things to do."

"Yes," the girl muttered softly. "Surely." But she couldn't think of a single thing. "I don't… seem to remember much."

"Oh, no," cried the old hag in a pretense of dismay. "You poor dear, you must have hit your head when you got up from fetching my spoon that fell!"

The girl felt at her head and looked down at her blonde braid in surprise. It didn't _feel_ like she'd hit her head. She looked down at the wooden spoon in her hand. She didn't remember picking it up. When she noticed the pottery jar holding several more wooden spoons, she put the one in her hand in with the rest. "What's happening to me?" she said softly. She hadn't meant to say it aloud.

"You just come here, now," the old hag cackled, her blackened teeth showing. "Old Meg won't point you wrong." She led the confused young woman out the front door of the miserable shack and pointed into the forest, away from the town. She sensed mortal danger in that direction; hopefully, the fool girl would get herself killed, and the old hag wouldn't have to bother with getting rid of her personally. "If you go that way, you will find the answers you seek."

"Oh," the girl said. "Thank you."

"Don't forget your axe, dear girl," the hag said.

"My… what?"

"Oh, you poor thing, forgotten that, too?" The hag gestured to the huge battle axe lying across her floor. In a daze, the girl put a hesitant hand on the haft. She seemed surprised that she could lift the monstrous thing, and as she thanked the old woman again and headed off in the direction she had been told to go, she carried the axe awkwardly, almost gingerly, as if afraid it would turn in her hands and cut her at any moment.

The hag watched her go. "Perhaps I _should_ have just killed her myself. But all that tough muscle, and too skinny besides. And her age! One and twenty, indeed." Huffing angrily to herself, the hag headed back into town in search of younger, more tender flesh for her cage.

* * *

><p>Paige knew she had been distracted this morning. Dr. Horne and the Blues hadn't said anything, but from the sidelong glances she caught some of them giving her, they had to have noticed. Part of her was nervous for Mr. Gold. She didn't know exactly when he was going to give Belle the library and try to be honest with her, but she hoped Belle would see that he was <em>trying. <em>She could hardly focus on the different shop set-ups that the interior decorator had left with them. The woman had sketched four different ideas, but Paige had narrowed it down to two yesterday.

Suddenly, she put a hand to her stomach. Horne was at her side immediately. "What is being wrong, sweet girl? Are you well? And the babe?"

Smiling widely, Paige grabbed his hand and put in on her stomach, low on the left side. When he just blinked at her, she shifted his hand a little.

"Oh!" he cried. "The babe, she is making her presence to be known!" He smiled at Paige, just as excited as any normal human. Here in Storybrooke, it was hard sometimes to remember that he was not.

**I've actually felt some strange flutterings for a week or so now, but I was never sure if they were her or just gas.** Paige looked a little embarrassed at the thought that she might have mistaken her baby's movements for gas.

"Every mother has those doubts before the child is strong enough to kick a little harder," Jane Blue said, smiling. "You might end up wishing she'd never started. I felt that way with my youngest." She looked at her son Duncan fondly before turning to Horne. "Doctor?" she asked expectantly.

He knew what she meant immediately and moved so Jane could put her hand on Paige's stomach. Jane shifted her hand around for a moment, then smiled and nodded. "Oh, she stopped. Maybe she didn't like us being so familiar," she said jokingly.

Paige smiled. **Or maybe she just fell asleep.**

"For your sake, I hope she sleeps more than she kicks, or _you_ won't be getting any sleep for awhile." Jane directed another fond look at Duncan.

The young man rolled his eyes. "Mom!"

A sudden spike of anxiety lodged in Paige's throat. She did her best to hide it, but Jane had caught that sudden look. "Why don't we step outside for some air, Paige? I haven't had a chance to try out that new bench out front."

Nodding, Paige followed Jane. Once they were outside, though, Paige found herself wishing she hadn't gone. She didn't know if she could explain herself.

But Jane knew at least some of what Paige was going through. Sitting next to Paige, she patted the young woman's hand. "Every woman feels this at some point. No matter how prepared you think you are, you _will_ doubt yourself. Sometimes it seems like those kicks make the pregnancy real, you know? Even if you've known for a long time, actually _feeling_ that tiny life growing within can be downright scary."

Looking at Jane, Paige swallowed nervously.

Jane smiled. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she said, "but I wanted you to know that I understand. I've been there, three times. And if there's ever anything you want ask, or discuss, I'm here for you. I wanted you to know that, too. Now, if I'm right, some of your anxiety is about that young prince who is so mysteriously absent. If I were you, I'd go talk to him." Jane got up and walked to the door. "Shall I get the keys for my truck?"

Paige nodded. She couldn't talk to Mike, not yet, but she knew talking to Archie would help. Besides, he needed to hear the whole truth as well. And telling Archie might give her the courage she needed.

When Jane came back, she agreed to drop Paige off at Dr. Hopper's while she ran a few errands. If she disapproved of Paige not going to Mike after all, she didn't mention it.

* * *

><p>Paige knocked, and then almost walked away, but Dr. Hopper opened the door. She turned back to him.<p>

"Paige," Archie said, sounding surprised. "Did you… want to talk about something?"

Since he didn't know sign language, Paige showed her confusion by shrugging, then nodding.

"Please, come in," he said.

Paige sat on the couch. Archie stopped at his desk to grab Paige's notebook and a pen, handing them to her as he took his accustomed chair. "What's on your mind?"

She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a soft sigh, fiddling with the pen as she tried to decide where to start. Finally, she wrote a single sentence.

_I'm afraid I've lied to you._

"What do you mean, Paige?" Archie asked.

This time, Paige wrote a lot more.

_It seems like so much. First of all, I remembered all along, where we were from, who I was back there. I still had the false Curse-memories, but I remembered everything. I was – am – Eliza, Crown Princess of the Blueberry Kingdom, and Mike is Andrew, a prince from another kingdom, my betrothed. His brother is a king. So anyway, in a way, in those sessions where we talked about my past, I was kind of lying by omission. But also, when I came to you after that big fight Mike and I had, the one where he crashed his car after he left, well, I lied to you then. And only a little of it was omission. It's about - Mr. Gold._

After reading the note, Archie said, "As far as our true past is concerned, I can understand why you didn't tell me that. You were worried about being perceived as mentally unstable, and since I wasn't among those who remembered, I must admit that I probably would have had concerns about your mental and emotional health. Although I'm curious; why _did_ you remember?"

She bit her lip as she wrote briefly.

_We'll get to that part later._

"Okay," Archie replied. "So, what about Mr. Gold, then?"

_I told you that I wanted… indecent things with him. That I almost slept with him. Well, the truth is, I __**did**__ sleep with him. For most of the 28 years of the Curse, I was having sex with him. And it was only lust, nothing romantic. And also… Mr. Gold is the father of my child._

At the time, Archie had accepted Paige's confessions without any doubt, but looking back, her behavior _had_ been odd. He had originally attributed it to the fight, but now… he swallowed. This was not easy to wrap his head around.

Paige wrote something else.

_There __**is**__ good in him. He's made some very bad choices in his life, but there's still a good man underneath._

Remembering when Gold thought he had found his son, Archie gave a half-smile. "I certainly don't know him as well as you, but you know, Paige, I think you may be right. Whether or not he can let that good person show, well, that's up to him." Archie frowned thoughtfully. "You said you _didn't_ have romantic feelings for him?"

Paige wrote her answer without hesitation.

_No, nothing romantic. I lust after him, and for a while that was all, but over all this time, I've also come to care for him as a friend._

"Lust fades, but friendship, true friendship, doesn't." Archie looked pensive. "You know, Paige, I think he's very lucky to have found you. I think you might be good for him."

Paige ducked her head shyly.

_Thank you, Dr. Hopper._

"So, is that what you and Mike fought about? That Gold is the father?"

Giving a wry, nearly-silent sigh, Paige started writing again.

_Mike knew that all along. We've never actually had sex, not here in Storybrooke, and not even back in the world that was. I got pregnant because of the deal I made with Rumpelstiltskin. My brothers were turned into swans, and for the knowledge of how to break that spell, his price was my chastity. I knew before I signed the scroll that a child would result, but I made the deal anyway. Even though it might cost me my one true love, I couldn't force my brothers to spend the rest of their lives as swans. And as far as I understand it, paying that price is what made me remember, because Rumpelstiltskin was still… I mean, we were just… finishing up, at the very moment that the Dark Curse swept us away. He had arranged things so he would remember his origins, and since I was in close physical contact while also in the midst of a magical transaction with him, it seems that my original memories were preserved._

Realizing she had gone off on a tangent, Paige had skipped a line on the page in her notebook.

_But anyway, the fight happened because Mike found out I lied. I let him believe that it only happened once between me and Mr. Gold, so when he found out it was an ongoing thing, he got angry, and I think jealous, too, even though the Curse made him believe that he liked guys. He was… disgusted by the thought that I wanted Mr. Gold to touch me._

Since she seemed to have made her peace with the deal she'd made, and its consequences, Archie decided not to discuss that further unless she brought it up again. So he asked, "Do you think that's simply a revulsion he felt for Mr. Gold, or do you think his true self was… leaking through, in a manner of speaking?"

Paige didn't have to think long about her answer.

_I think it might have been both. Emma had already come to town, so the Curse was weakening, but everyone here seemed to have an instinctive fear of Mr. Gold before that, possibly a residual memory from the other world. So it was probably Andrew's jealousy mixed with Mike's disgust. I mean, I'm certainly no expert on magic, but that's what it seemed like to me._

"Do you feel like you've done anything wrong?"

_Well, the lies I've told about it made me feel terrible, but the actual sex itself? No. I mean, at first I felt like I didn't have much choice, but…_

She paused for so long that Archie took the notebook and read what she had written so far.

"Were you in denial, Paige?" he asked, his voice quiet and free of any judgment.

Blinking, Paige swallowed hard as she took the notebook back from Dr. Hopper.

_Yeah, I guess I was. I actually met Rumpelstiltskin at a masquerade ball held for my 21st birthday, and I didn't know who he was until recently, but if he had led me off into an isolated room that night, I would have let him have his way with me. Once I realized who it was I had felt that way about, I started to realize that I still felt that lust, but I was raised to never do that sort of thing with just anyone, you know what I mean?_

Nodding, Archie said, "Because of the way you were raised, you felt like it _must_ be wrong to give in to your lust."

_Exactly. Sometimes I felt so dirty. But I got really embarrassed one time, when Mr. Gold wanted to try… a new… position, and I told him that the thought turned me on, which made me feel like a slut, and he pointed out to me that I wasn't sleeping with multiple different men, and even asked if I would still have sex with him if Mike wanted to start a relationship. And since I would never want to do that, he said I shouldn't think of myself that way._

"Mr. Gold said that?" Archie sounded surprised. When Paige nodded, he added, "It sounds like he shares your feelings of friendship."

Paige blinked. She had never really thought of it that way, and she was pretty sure that Gold didn't, either. Part of her wondered if Archie could possibly be right about it. A man like Gold didn't generally think of others as friends.

"So what made you want to come and tell me all this today, Paige?" Archie asked.

_Because I've hated all the lies I told. You're not the only one I've lied to, either. Mike... he thinks I didn't know who I was having sex with. He has no idea that I knew who I was, and who Mr. Gold really was, all along._

"And you're afraid he'll take it poorly?"

_Yes. He's already pulling away from me to decide whether he still wants to spend his life with me, and part of it is because he thinks that Rumpelstiltskin's child will inherit my throne. But Dr. Nerean, who is known as Dr. Horne in this world – you met him at that dinner I had to thank people for helping me and Mike – well, he was my father's friend and advisor in the other world. And he told me about a law in my kingdom, that says no child born to an unwed mother can take the throne. I need to tell Mike that before he decides, but… I also need to tell him that I knew all along._

"It's good that you want to be so open with him. He needs to be able to make an informed decision. But I can understand that you're concerned about his reaction to this news," said Archie.

_I'm afraid he won't make a decision at all, that he'll find out I knew and just say that it's over. It seems like the kind of thing Mike would do._

Paige swallowed nervously.

"Well, it _is_ possible that he'll overreact, but the important thing to remember is that, even if he does, his blood will cool eventually and he'll take a good, hard look at it, and maybe he'll change his mind. But then again, maybe Andrew will shine through, and be more accepting." Archie watched Paige's face closely. "Do you think it will help to find out that there is a way for Andrew's child to inherit the throne?"

_That's just it, Dr. Hopper. I'm not sure I can put her through that. I can't imagine how it would feel to know that I couldn't ever rule because my mother had made a conscious choice that would deny me the opportunity, and I don't know if I can do that to my daughter._

When she handed the notebook over, Paige held her stomach protectively.

"I have to agree, that would be a very difficult choice, but only you can make it. I can't tell you what's right or wrong, and neither can anyone else. You have to figure out what's best, for you and for your daughter."

Paige nodded. She had already known that, but she wished he would have at least offered his opinion. She trusted Archie, as much as she trusted Dr. Horne. Thinking of that made her realize that Dr. Horne didn't know the truth yet, either. And she would have to tell Ruby at some point.

She wrote another note, thanking Archie.

He smiled as they both stood, and said, "You're very welcome, Paige. And remember, any time you need someone to talk to, just text me, or stop by."

Paige suddenly threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Archie seemed surprised at first, but he hugged her back, almost gingerly. He watched her face when she drew back, but there was no sign of tears. In fact, she was smiling brightly. She scribbled down one last note and left before he could read it.

It read simply, _Thanks so much for listening. You're a good friend, Archie._ After reading it, he smiled, blinking at the sudden stinging in his eyes.

* * *

><p>Guy had never thought of himself as a coward, but he licked his lips, acknowledging the fact that he was terrified. It wasn't every day he found himself face-to-face with the Dark One.<p>

"Oh, I can send you a hero, dearie, but it won't happen the way you expect. These things seldom do," Rumpelstiltskin was saying, his voice almost gleeful. "But I shall require something from you."

"What – what is it?" Guy felt a knot in his stomach. The impish man had something of a reputation for asking painful prices.

"The three bears have something I want," Rumpelstiltskin said, enjoying the young man's increase of fear. "There is a key, made of purest silver, hidden in their bedchamber. You must bring me that key, but it would be best if you did not touch it."

"How can I bring you a key without touching it? And what if they have more than one key that looks like it's made of silver? I am no metal smith, to know whether a silvery object is actually _made_ out of silver." The young man was desperate. If he could not pay this price, his village might be forced to live in fear forever, or at least until everyone died. In the past seven years, only nine teenagers had reached their coming-of-age. He was one of those. The beginning of the bad years was etched into his mind.

He had been a youth of fourteen, scrawny and just starting to hit his growth spurt. The local lord, the mayor, and the lawman were simply gone one morning in the middle of spring, and everyone had panicked. It was less than a month later that children started to disappear, and three huge, mean-looking bears had taken up residence in the woods nearby. The odd thing was, they lived in an actual house. No one had ever heard of bears doing that before, but the bears were so fearsome that none dared to approach them.

Within a few days of each child's disappearance, the wind brought the smell of smoke into the village, but the stench it carried with it was awful, and everyone knew that the child had been eaten. Most people believed that it was the bears eating the children. Guy wasn't sure what he believed, but if bears could live in a real house, then they might prefer their meat cooked, for all he knew.

What he did know was that someone had to save their village. When the older teens started to disappear first, Guy had noticed that all of the youths on the cusp of adulthood disappeared, except one. The girl was thin and bony, and whatever was taking the children moved on to younger victims, leaving her untouched. So in spite of the enormous appetite his growth spurt had given him, Guy had starved himself, staying thin until after he had come of age. Even now, he wasn't a particularly husky young man, but he had filled out since then. It was mostly muscle, but no matter how strong he felt, he knew his muscles would not protect him from the Dark One. Or from those three vicious bears, either.

"Please," Guy said, reaching out in supplication. But he didn't quite dare to actually touch Rumpelstiltskin. "We need someone who can save us!"

"Surely you possess such a thing as gloves? Good leather will be enough, if you only touch the key for a moment," the imp said, smirking. "And you will know it easily, for it is the only key in the world that will fit into this wee box." Here he held up a box that looked a little big to hold a key. Opening it with a flourish, Rumpelstiltskin showed Guy that the inside was not hollow; instead, there was a depression in both the top and bottom so that, when the box was closed, the key would be held snugly in the key-shaped indentations. There were no less than three clasps on the front of the box, to hold it quite securely closed.

Guy swallowed. This sounded much more possible, but still – he had to go into the bears' house?

"Now," Rumpelstiltskin instructed, "you must _not_ knock upon their door, or you will surely perish. They will go out for a walk just before lunch, and you must be ready. There will be a window open, and it is up to you to discover which. The moment you hear them close the door behind them, you will slip in through that window. The first thing you must do is unlock the front door, then go upstairs and search their bedchamber for that key."

"Why –" Guy started, but Rumpelstiltskin interrupted.

"Ah-ah, dearie, no time for questions or you may miss your chance! You wouldn't want that, would you?" Without waiting for an answer, the imp continued. "Once you have found the key, you must leave as swiftly as ever you may, for if they catch you, your task will fail. Trust me, you dunnae want to find out what they would do to someone they caught stealing from them." His grin was almost mocking. "Let nothing, and no _one_, distract you overlong from leaving with the key, but you shall leave by the front door, _and _you shall lock it behind you. Just be sure to get well out of sight as quickly as you can." The young man stammered, trying to ask questions, but Rumpelstiltskin dropped the box into Guy' hand and shooed him impatiently. "The sun is fast reaching its peak, dearie. Surely you do not wish to miss your… window of opportunity?" He chuckled at his own pun, and it wasn't a very nice chuckle.

The young man was surprised to feel how heavy the box was, but as the imp had said, there was little time. As Guy rushed out of the clearing, Rumpelstiltskin looked in a different direction. He took a few steps back, seeming to melt into the surrounding trees, just as a young woman stepped into the clearing. She looked like Muffet, but her hair was golden, and she held the axe as if she had no idea how to use such a thing. She scanned the trees, her face anxious.

* * *

><p>Paige certainly felt calmer the next day, and she was actually able to consider having that talk with Mike. She and Horne had decided on which sketch they wanted to use as the basis of the shop, and her heart felt lighter for having confessed the truth to Archie.<p>

As she walked across the room to put the sketch they didn't want into the folder with the other two that they had rejected, she stopped suddenly, swaying. Dr. Horne ran to her side. "Princess, are you being well?" His voice was urgent, worried. Instead of answering, she put her arms around him, gripping his shoulders to steady herself. Duncan was the only other person in the room at the moment, and he rushed over to help the doctor half-carry Paige to an old couch along one wall.

"I'm kind of glad we haven't got rid of this thing yet," Duncan said, his voice shaking.

**I'm alright,** Paige signed. **I just got a little dizzy for a moment there. I must have gotten up too fast, that's all.**

With a stern look, Dr. Horne asked, "Have you been drinking a proper amount of water, Paige?"

She blinked. **Yeah, I guess so,** she signed.

"That is meaning 'no,' sweet girl," he said, disapproval radiating from him. "You should be having at least eight glasses each day, more if you can. Especially when you are going to this exercising class you seem to so very much enjoy."

Without having to be told, Duncan hurried out of the room. The refrigerator that the Blue family kept here had already been moved to the room that was now being set up as their employee break room. When he came back, he held a large glass full of cold water.

"Ah, you are very much a good man, Duncan," the doctor said, taking the glass. He would not let Paige take it from him, instead holding it and letting her take small sips. She turned her head before it was halfway empty, and Horne said, "No, after that feeling of faintness you were experiencing, you should be drinking it all, Paige."

When Paige gave him a look, he gave it right back. Paige was the one who backed down; after all, the faun had nursed her mother through six pregnancies, and he had always done what was best for her in the past. She reluctantly took another sip.

* * *

><p>Muffet gasped, looking around warily. How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was an old woman. She had carried a sack of potatoes for an old woman. She barely breathed as she concentrated on what had happened next. She suddenly remembered a strange feeling of wrongness in the old woman's house, almost a feeling of danger. So how had she gotten into the woods, and where was this tiny glade in relation to the village?<p>

After a moment's worry that she had lost more than just a single morning, she started getting impressions – strange, hazy memories of helpless confusion. But that wasn't like her! Confusion could happen to anyone, but the last word Muffet would ever use to describe herself was helpless. Not since Thornwood was destroyed, at least.

She remembered that she was looking for something, but what? Help of some kind, perhaps. Blinking, she wondered if that old woman had done something. Then she gasped. That spoon! The clay jar on the table had held _wooden_ spoons, but when she picked up the one that had fallen on the floor, it had been made of _silver_! Or at least, that was how she remembered it. The spoon she picked up had looked just like one of her Mama's spoons. That was where things started to get fuzzy, where the feelings of helplessness had set in.

"Well, well, well, dearie," came a loathsome voice. "Awfully far away from Wolf territory, aren't we?"

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she cried, whirling to face him. "What's wrong with me? Why are the past few hours so vague and misty?"

"Oh, do tell, dearie," he said shrewdly. So Muffet told him what she remembered. When she was finished, he said, "It seems to me you've run afoul of a spell. A spell meant to bring out parts of yourself that are deeply hidden, a spell to make you… almost a whole different person, yet not quite. Strange, though." He put one hand to his chin, tapping his forefinger alongside the corner of his mouth thoughtfully.

When he didn't say anything else, Muffet asked warily, "What do you mean by strange?" She didn't like hearing that word from him. If _he_ thought it was strange, it was probably something terrible.

He spread his hands, palm up. Muffet had a sudden, incongruous image of him as a schoolteacher. Her own schoolteacher had made similar gestures when explaining something. "Ah, you see, this sort of spell is usually, well… permanent." He emphasized the final word, almost over-enunciating it. His amusement was obvious.

Muffet swallowed hard. "Permanent?" It came out as almost a squeak, which made her blush.

"You should not remember being your true self, dearie!" His voice sounded entirely too cheerful in Muffet's opinion.

Her face pale, she asked, "What can I do?"

"Well," Rumpelstiltskin said with an unpleasant grin, "first I'll need to take a closer look at you!"

Muffet's hands tightened on her axe as the impish man stepped closer, raising his hands. When he reached for her face, she flinched and stepped back.

Shrugging, Rumpelstiltskin said, "If you dunnae want my help, just say so, dearie, and I'll gladly leave you to become that helpless little girl."

Muffet opened her mouth, but nothing came out. So she swallowed hard and tried again. "Don't go. I do not wish to be her, ever again." Her voice was thick with emotion, and she could admit, at least to herself, that part of it was fear.

Rumpelstiltskin raised his hands again. Muffet steeled herself. Her hands ached from their grip on her axe's handle. But he didn't actually touch her face; his hands hovered in the air just above her jawline. "Hmm," he said, looking off into the distance. "Seems you're fighting it." He sounded both surprised and condescending. Clenching her teeth, Muffet glared at the imp. Of course she was fighting this! She had sworn on the ruins of her Papa's house, which had become not only his grave, but Mama's and Betsy's as well. She had sworn that she would never again be a helpless little girl who couldn't even stand her post because a spider startled her. No matter how big the spider.

"Yes," he murmured, almost to himself. There was an almost furious glint in his eye, and Muffet couldn't suppress a tremble. But the impish man shook his head slightly as he stepped back, and when he looked at Muffet again, that trace of rage was gone. She felt her shoulders relax. He didn't seem to be angry at her, and she decided that she didn't want to know what _had_ angered him. She jumped when he spoke again. "I can remove this troublesome spell for you – for a price."

"Of course," Muffet said, almost sarcastically. "There's always a price, but what is it?" She winced immediately; she hadn't meant to sound so irritated.

"Temper, temper," Rumpelstiltskin said, smirking. "You can't get something for nothing, dearie!" He gave a sinister chuckle.

Muffet barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes. She hated that she had to deal with this imp for a second time. She had hoped she would never have to lay eyes on him again after she got her axe. "Of course not," she agreed tightly. "So, what do you want from me?" She managed to keep her voice almost civil this time.

"Why, 'tis simple, dearie. There is an… item I need, and you will retrieve it for me!" he said, his tone cavalier.

"Whatever it is, why can't you go get it?" Muffet knew she probably shouldn't risk angering him, but she couldn't help herself. Her suspicion of the imp was getting the better of her.

With a condescending smirk and a dangerous look in his eyes, Rumpelstiltskin answered her with another question. "Why bother going to all that trouble when I have you to fetch it for me?"

Muffet swallowed, tightening her grip on the axe. If the imp thought it so much trouble, how hard was this going to be? She didn't trust his announcement that it would be simple, especially after he had avoided her question. She looked down, taking a deep breath to steel herself. After all, she needed his help, much as that galled.

Her long, honey-brown braid had fallen over her shoulder, hanging nearly to her waist. Unbound, her hair came almost to her hips, but she only let it hang loose while it dried after she washed it, or while she brushed it each morning and evening. As Muffet stared at the ground, she saw the ends of her hair turn golden blonde. She grabbed her braid, but the golden color swept up her hair, and before she could do more than gasp, it reached her head.

The girl blinked. Why was she holding her braid up and staring at it? She remembered coming into this clearing, but there seemed to be… a gap in her memory. She looked up and jumped, gasping. When had that strange-looking man gotten there? He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. The girl flushed.

"I do apologize, sir," she said softly, "but I seem to have... lost my memories. There was a kind old lady, she said I carried her potatoes home, but when I picked up something I knocked off her table, I must have hit my head. Then she sent me this way, saying I would find help out here. That's all I can remember."

Rumpelstiltskin's smirk widened into a devious grin. "Well, she spoke wisely," he said, though his tone seemed to indicate otherwise. "I _can_ help you regain your memories, dearie, but you'll have to fetch me something first."

"Of course," the girl said eagerly. "I could not ask for your help without repaying you somehow. Please, tell me where I must go, and what it is you need." When a triumphant look came over his face, the girl felt a distinct sense of unease, but she pushed it down. He was being kind enough to help her; she shouldn't think ill of him just because he wanted something in return.

Pointing to his right, Rumpelstiltskin said, "There is snug little house, yonder. It is the dwelling of three fierce bears. They have a parchment I require, but they guard it with their very lives. They attack all who knock upon their door without even looking to see who it is, and if I were to sneak in whilst they were out, well, who knows what they'd do to a poor old fellow like me if they came home and found me still there." His voice was both amused and self-deprecating at the same time. The girl was starting to look unsure of her offer to help, so he added, "However, I have heard tell that they do not like to harm young women, particularly those with golden hair. Like yours." He reached out and touched the gold braid dangling over her shoulder with the tips of two fingers. He had wondered what had caused her hair to change color; this spell shouldn't have done that. But as soon as he touched her hair, he knew. And he fully intended to rub old Megeara's nose in it.

"So I would be… safe?" the girl asked. She licked her lips nervously.

"Well, I can hardly guarantee that," he smirked. "We live in a dangerous world, dearie! But if you sneak in while the three bears are out, and they come home and catch you, they'll not harm you. However, you _must not_ approach while they're at home. That would be quite unsafe." He cocked his head as if listening to something. "Now, you will find the parchment hidden in an empty jar." When the girl opened her mouth, he shook his finger at her. "Nae, dearie, just listen," he admonished, almost playfully. "The jar will _appear_ to be empty, but that is far from the truth. Reach in your hand and you will feel a powder inside. The parchment is kept in this invisibility powder, rolled up and quite safe from prying eyes. But be warned – should the bears find you, they must not discover that you have it, or you are doomed. As long as you keep it secret, keep it safe from ursine eyes, you will remain unharmed."

The girl licked her lips. "Alright," she said. "But… you can bring back my memories? How… is that done?"

"Through magic, of course!" Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed. "But quite naturally, all magic comes with a price. And the parchment is _your_ price!"

"But surely, with your magic, you could easily acquire this thing for yourself… couldn't you?" The girl swallowed. Her uneasy feeling had just doubled when she questioned the strange man.

"Well, as to that, dearie," he said, his eyes glittering dangerously, "as I mentioned earlier, it would be much more complicated for myself. Although I suppose you have a point. Much easier to cut out the middle man, as it were, and do it myself. But I'm afraid that would leave me with no reason to help you." He stroked his chin thoughtfully, as if contemplating the benefits of retrieving the parchment for himself.

Her face anxious, the girl cried, "Oh, no, 'tis quite alright! I would be glad to help you out! I just thought, you know… with your magic, and all… but please, if it would be easier for me to do it, then let me go!"

"And in return, I'll give you back your memories. Once you've brought me the parchment, of course."

"Yes, of course," she said eagerly. "This way, right?" She pointed in the direction Rumpelstiltskin had indicated earlier.

Smirking, he said, "That's right, dearie. If you leave now, you should find the house just in time to see the bears leave for a nice walk." He watched her go, and just as she was about to step out of the clearing, he called out, "And by the way, dearie, should you find anything else hidden in the jar, do with it as you will!"

She half-turned. "Oh, uh, okay!" she called back. "Um, bye!" She waved uncertainly and stepped into the woods.

"Tootles," he said to the now empty clearing, raising one hand and waving his fingers in the direction the girl had gone. He gave a hair-raising giggle as he contemplated the hilarity of the whole situation.

* * *

><p>A young man named Arthur sauntered down Main Street, on his way to back to work at the grocery store. He had walked to Granny's for his lunch. He was a little short for a man, but not as short as his friend Ed, who had driven back to this Blueberry Farm he'd been on about. Arthur hadn't known Ed in the Enchanted Forest, but since he worked in the seafood department at the grocery store, he had quite naturally met the man who brought in the fresh fish. Although Ed had just told him that he wasn't working on his brother's fishing boats any longer – something about finding his princess and going to work for her. Arthur supposed that Ed's princess owned that farm.<p>

Suddenly, someone walking toward him caught his eye. Someone he _had_ known in the Enchanted Forest. "Hey, Goldilocks!" he said, his tone friendly and a bit surprised.

* * *

><p>The girl peered around a large tree. The bears were closing the door behind them, with surprising dexterity given their large, clumsy-looking paws. They headed down the path that meandered through the woods, but before the path curved out of sight around a leaning tree, they stepped off the path, heading north into the untracked forest. The girl wondered briefly where they could be going, but she didn't know how long they would be gone, so she should probably hurry.<p>

She slipped from her hiding place to a bush nearby, then to a stand of bamboo that looked like it wasn't getting enough water. All the while, she watched the woods carefully, just in case the three bears doubled back for any reason. After a long, tense moment, she ran to the door. She was surprised to find it unlocked. But there wouldn't be any point in standing here wondering why they hadn't locked up behind themselves, so she opened the door just enough to squeeze inside, closing it as quietly as she could behind herself. She didn't know much about bears, and she didn't want to take any risks. They might have exceptional hearing, for all she knew.

She made her way through the entry into a large, comfortable room. This side of the room was set up with three large, upholstered armchairs, and there was a large bookcase along one wall. The girl blinked at it, wondering how bears could manage to read books. But the books, stuffed any-which-way onto the crowded shelves, were well-worn, as if read frequently.

The other end of the room held a square dining table. One side was against a wall, and three matching chairs stood at each of the other three sides.

The room looked so homey and comfortable that the girl grinned delightedly, quite forgetting that she had come here to find something. She tried out each of the armchairs. The first was hard and not very comfortable for her slender frame. Even when she brought over a pillow from one of the other chairs, she couldn't seem to get comfortable, so she tried the second chair. This one had far too much padding sewn into the upholstery, so even when she had pushed out all of the extra cushions, it still felt like the chair was trying to swallow her up. She liked a soft chair, but this was _too_ soft! But the third chair, slightly smaller than the other two, was just about perfect! There was a thin blanket folded over the back, and a book over one arm. The book was open, and with the pages facing down, as if the bear who sat here was using the arm of his chair to hold his place in the book. Experimentally, the girl curled up comfortably and pulled the blanket down, spreading it over herself. It was a little warm just now, but in the cool evening, this would keep her the perfect temperature as she sat and read! Lifting the book, she flipped through it, but there were no pictures and the print was small. Bored, she stood up, leaving the blanket heaped up on the seat of the chair. She closed the book and dropped it on top of the blanket.

She wandered over to the table, where she was surprised to discover three piping hot bowls of porridge. She had never thought that _bears_ would eat porridge! They must have gone on a little walk so that it could cool. She picked up the spoon next to the biggest bowl. Surely a bite from a bowl this big wouldn't be missed. She filled the spoon quite full and lifted it, blowing gently to make sure it was cool enough to taste. Taking a delicate sip from the end of the spoon, she almost gagged. That was way too salty! She spat that mouthful into the napkin by the big bowl and let the spoon drop into the bowl. Perhaps bears, like humans, had different tastes – would the other two bowls be as salty?

Taking up the spoon by the next bowl, the girl took a more cautious mouthful. At first, it seemed alright, but then the sweetness of brown sugar exploded on her tongue – too much sugar! She swallowed that bite, but put the spoon down hurriedly, never noticing that the porridge still on the spoon began to leak onto the carefully-folded napkin. She looked warily at the third bowl, but since the second had proved that bears did, indeed, have differing tastes, she decided to try it anyway. This one tasted just right – not too sweet, not too salty! Before she knew it, the girl had eaten nearly the whole bowl of porridge!

Just then, she heard footsteps on the stairs. She ran back to the door, where she had left that huge axe propped up. She wasn't sure how to use such a thing, but whoever was sneaking up on her wouldn't know that, and would have to think twice before messing with that huge weapon!

"Who are you?" asked a young man who looked like he was her age. He was short for a man, but still a little taller than the girl herself. Oh, _why_ had he asked her such a thing?

She couldn't keep the consternation from her face. "I… I don't know. I cannot remember _anything_," she said plaintively.

He seemed taken aback. "Well, I am called Guy," he said politely. He smiled at her – she was pretty, even if she was such a slender girl! "You really don't know who you are?"

"No," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Well, I'm going to call you Goldilocks," he announced. "Because your hair is so beautiful. But you should wear it loose, you know. A pretty girl like you should never hide her hair, especially golden hair like yours."

Blushing, the girl tugged at the narrow strip of leather that kept the end of the braid tied off. She was seriously considering letting her hair down for him.

"And what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" asked Guy. "And with such a huge axe?"

"Well, the axe, I don't know. The old woman _said_ it was mine, and she seemed nice enough. Why should she lie to me about that?" Goldilocks shrugged, putting that little bit of confusion behind her. "But I came here to fetch something for a sorcerer. He can use his magic to bring back my memories, and maybe then I'll know why I carry this heavy old thing," she said, hefting the axe.

"You should let me take that for you," Guy said. "You're much too delicate and pretty to carry a thing like that around."

"Oh, um, thank you," she said, handing the axe over. "But when I remember, how will I find you if I want it back?"

"No worries, pretty Goldilocks," he replied. "I live in the village but half a morning's walk to the south of here. Just ask for me by name; 'tis not a large place. And maybe we can have supper together."

"I would like that," she said shyly. She slipped the leather tie into her pocket as surreptitiously as she could, but it proved impossible to unbraid her hair without being noticed.

"Here, let me help," Guy offered, setting the axe aside. He started near the bottom, running his fingers gently through her hair as if her were finger-combing it. When the bottom few inches hung loose, he started a little higher, eventually working his way up to the nape of Goldilocks' neck. "That's better," he said, admiring her lovely golden hair.

She smiled at him, a little less shyly than before. Her lips looked soft and kissable, but as Guy stepped closer, the heavy box swung in his jacket pocket, thumping against his side and reminding him of Rumpelstiltskin's instruction. He grabbed Goldilocks' hand. "Come on, we have to get out of here, before the bears come back."

Much to his surprise, she pulled away. "No!" she cried, suddenly remembering her own task. "If I don't fetch what I came for, the man in the woods will not give me back my memories!"

Guy blinked. It sounded like she, too, had made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin. Had the imp been so unsure of Guy's abilities that he sent in someone else as well? He slipped one end of the box out of his pocket to show it to her. "I already got the key," he said, his voice a little short. He supposed he should have expected as much from the Dark One, but he couldn't stop feeling hurt that he had not been trusted with this task.

Goldilocks gave the box a strange look. "Whatever's in that box, I came for a parchment. One hidden in plain sight." She noticed Guy give the bookcase a shrewd glance, but she didn't try to explain further. She worried that he would try to get the parchment _for_ her, and she was sure that, somehow, that strange little man would know, and he might not help her if she didn't do this herself. "I will not leave without it. I cannot."

Making an exasperated noise, Guy said, "I can't just leave you here. Those creatures will kill you!"

"No, they won't," she countered. "The sorcerer told me that they do not harm innocent girls, especially ones with golden hair like mine." Then she realized something. "But they will likely harm _you_, Guy! You must go! If I do not make it out before they return, I'll be alright, but I couldn't stand it if they harmed you! Oh, please, Guy, go! I'll find you in the village, after I get my memories back. I promise!"

Guy cupped her face in one hand. He still wanted to kiss her, but Rumpelstiltskin had warned him not to linger. Besides, he thought to himself, there would be time for kisses later, so long as he lived to meet Goldilocks again. "Be safe. I swear, if they harm you, I will use this axe of yours to chop off their heads!"

She melted, leaning against him provocatively. "Oh, Guy," she breathed. "But you must go. They _must_ not see you!"

With a quick brush of his lips against hers, Guy picked up the axe and headed for the door. "Come and find me, Goldilocks," he said. "But don't take too long." With a dashing smile, he left. She was so caught up in the moment that she never even noticed that he had locked the door behind himself.

* * *

><p>Paige dutifully finished up another glass of water, even though Dr. Horne wasn't there to see. Then she got up and left her side of the duplex. She felt like a hypocrite, telling Mr. Gold to be honest with Belle when she was still letting Mike believe a lie, but if Gold could try, then so could she.<p>

When Mike opened the door, Paige winced at the look on his face. **I'm sorry, Mike, **she signed, **but I need to talk to you. There are… some things you need to know. Before you can make your decision… about us.**

Mike swallowed. Based on Paige's apparent unease, this was probably more uncomfortable truths that he wouldn't want to hear. After a deep breath, he said, "I guess you should come in, then." When Paige hesitated, he added, "Unless you _wanted_ to do this on the porch?"

She shook her head and stepped inside. Mike gestured to his couch, and Paige perched on the edge of it. She knew she was pale, but she tried to hide the fact that she was also trembling.

But Mike noticed. "Are you alright?" He knelt in front of her, looking concernedly into her eyes. He rested his hands over hers, which were clenched on her knees.

Swallowing hard, Paige pulled her hands away. **You'll understand soon enough**, she signed.

Mike's face went blank. How bad could it be, to upset her this much? He wasn't sure if something horrible had happened _to _her, or if she was about to tell him some awful secret. He stood and went to sit on the loveseat, angling his body so he was facing Paige. "What is it?" His voice was just a little hoarse.

**There are actually two things,** she signed. **One **_**could **_**be good news, but the other is definitely bad – at least, from your perspective.**

Mike just blinked at her for a moment before saying slowly, "Okay, then… let's start with the maybe-good."

Paige took a deep breath, not sure if she was relieved to put off the bad news, or if waiting just made it worse. But at least this way, he would definitely hear both. **I just learned about a certain law in my kingdom, **she began. **Dr. Horne told me that – that any child born to an unwed mother cannot ascend the throne in my kingdom.**

Mike licked his lips. "So… what exactly are you saying here, Paige?"

For a moment, Paige laid both hands on her belly in a protective gesture. Then she signed, **If… if I'm not married when I give birth, she can't rule. Rumpelstiltskin's child will **_**not**_** be my heir unless she is born in wedlock.**

Looking closely at her face, Mike prompted, "But?"

**But… I'm not sure I want to do that to her. For her to know she could have had the opportunity to prove herself and rule, but that I made a choice that denied her even that chance…** Paige looked at Mike hesitantly. When he didn't speak, she continued to sign. **I don't know if I can condemn her to a life of feeling… unworthy.**

"Not even for me?" Mike asked. "I mean, not to make any promises or anything, but this… this is _huge_!"

Before Mike could say anything more, Paige stood up. It was the quickest way she could think of to get his attention, and it worked.

**Wait, Mike. You haven't heard the bad news yet.**

He realized that she was right. He watched her pace back and forth, wringing her hands. Finally he said, "Paige, just tell me!"

She sighed, nearly silently. **There's something… something I should have told you as soon as the Curse broke. And I'm not trying to make excuses, but I was afraid you'd never forgive me for this. But now I know that was the worst thing I could have done. Not having told you right away, well, makes it much worse.** She stopped for a moment to take a few calming breaths. **I knew who I was all along. I still had the false Curse memories, but I had all my real ones, too.**

Mike gaped at her. "You mean all this time, you've had both lives in your head?" Having both sets of his own memories gave Mike a headache at the best of times, and to discover that Paige had been forced to deal with that for the past 28 years made him ache for the pain and confusion she must have felt. He never even noticed the stricken expression on Paige's face. Then he thought of something else. "What was it like, living the same day over and over?" he asked softly.

Paige blinked. **Well, it wasn't **_**exactly**_** the same. It just… followed a similar pattern, I guess. Like when you make chocolate chip cookies – the chips are never in exactly the same place in any two cookies, but they all still taste the same. If that makes any sense,** she added as she shook her head, clearly frustrated that she couldn't explain it more clearly.

But Mike said, "No, actually, that _does_ make sense, Paige." He was nodding to himself as he thought about her analogy.

Frowning, Paige snapped her fingers to get Mike's attention. **Don't you get it, though? What it means that I knew all along?** At Mike's blank stare, she signed, **Do I **_**really**_** have to spell this out for you, Mike?**

"I guess so," he said slowly, watching her face closely. "Because I really don't understand why you're looking at me like I might hit you."

Paige pressed the back of one hand to her mouth as if holding back an anguished cry, and she plopped down on the far end of the couch. She took a deep, trembling breath. **I remembered everything, **she signed. **The few people I came into contact with **_**here **_**that I knew from back **_**there,**_** I recognized. Except Lilura, but I hadn't really seen her that much in our world. Just when I accused her, and when the good doctor probed her mind and we sentenced her. But everyone else.**

At first, Mike just kept giving her that blank stare, but just as Paige raised her hands to sign again, realization dawned on his face, with hints of disgust and horror. "So… you mean… when you and Gold… you knew? You _knew_ all along exactly who you were spreading your legs for?" When Paige nodded, Mike immediately thought of several choice things to say, but as he opened his mouth, he noticed Paige cringing. He closed his mouth and tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. He could see that Paige was bracing for the worst, waiting for him to say awful, hurtful things, and a part of him wanted to do it. But another part hated to see her looking so scared and sad, hated the thought that he was the one responsible for that look. He tried to restrain himself, but couldn't keep the tightness from his voice as he asked, "Why? If you _knew_, then _why_?"

Paige gave another nearly-silent sigh. **At first, I felt trapped. But I was lying to myself.** She glanced at Mike uncertainly, but looked away again at the expression on his face. **He was the other man who recognized me at my masquerade. I found that out here in Storybrooke. And that's when I started to realize that I **_**did**_** have feelings for him. Not romantic, but definitely sexual. Sometimes just seeing him makes me… quiver. It was lust, plain and simple. But… somehow, it's become more. I consider him a friend, and a good one.**

Mike's face was tight with anger and disgust, but he seemed to be genuinely listening to her. At the very least, he wasn't shouting at her or telling her she was a horrible person. Hoping that it was a good sign, Paige continued. **I wanted you to understand that, before you decide. I'm not going to stop caring for him as a friend just because it makes you feel jealous. The lust I feel for him will fade, but not the friendship. And neither will my love for you. True love is forever, even if you decide you can't be with me.**

Mike worked his jaw for a moment, biting back the nasty things he wanted to say. When he felt he could trust himself not to be purposefully rude, he asked, "Are you still screwing him?"

Paige paled. **Not… physically. **When Mike blinked warily, she added, **There have been… **_**dreams**_**.** She hadn't meant to actually tell him about the dreams, but then again, she hadn't expected him to be able to contain his anger and disgust. Also, he _had_ asked, and seemed to be really listening this time. He was actually trying to hear her out, even though he didn't want to, and she knew that if she wasn't completely honest now, it would most likely push him past the breaking point. She couldn't keep the dreams from him forever, but her stomach was in knots. She prayed that this was the right thing to do, and that it wouldn't backfire on her.

"Like… you're just having wet dreams about him? Or like he's actually stepping _into_ your dreams to have his way with you?" Paige's blushing refusal to meet his eyes answered the question. "You –" he shouted. "That bast –" With a supreme effort, Mike cut himself off. His voice was tight from the effort of not shouting, of not being cruel. "That. Is. Just. _Sick_." he said, biting off each word.

**There's… more**, Paige signed hesitantly. **But I hope you'll think this is good – or better than the rest, anyway. Mr. Gold just found out that his true love is not dead, as he had been told. They are… also not actually together right now. But he and I have agreed that, if he and Belle get back together, or if you and I do, the dream sex will stop.**

"Really, Paige? You expect me to believe that? After the Curse broke, you told me it was over between you." His face was hard and accusing.

Paige's hands shook as she replied, **When I told you that, I thought it **_**was**_**, unless you decided to really leave me. And when I had the first dream, I thought it was just that my body missed him. Then I found out it was real, sort of, and I found out that he had Belle back in his life. So I was pretty surprised to have another dream, and that's when he told me that he and Belle are… not in a good place in their relationship right now.**

When he saw Paige's face, Mike blinked. "You really _do_ care for him, don't you?"

**I do, Mike.**

"I don't understand that at all," he said. "How could – I mean, just think of who he _is_, what he's _done_ to people!"

**I know,** Paige signed. **But there's still a good man under all of that. A man who makes all the wrong choices, but there **_**is**_** still good in him. Remember when the council wanted to revoke my right to live on my own?**

"Of course," Mike said, clearly confused.

**If it weren't for Mr. Gold, Marco would never have come up with the idea of rallying people to my aid. **_**Gold**_** planted those seeds. It took me a long time to see that, but the point is, he did that on his own. No one paid him to put that in motion.** Which was true – even though she had given him a blow job so that he would arrange for her case to be reviewed at a public meeting, he had never once implied that she owed him anything for putting that series of events in motion. He had been surprised by what she was willing to pay for that public review, so she knew he hadn't given Marco the idea just to get a blow job. He had done it as a kindness, whether he saw it that way or not.

Mike shook his head. "I still think he's a foul, disgusting, conniving old pervert, and I hate the thought of him touching you." He shuddered. "I _really_ hate the thought that you _like_ it."

**I'm sorry you feel that way, Mike, but like I said, lust fades. And I truly hope that he and Belle can work things out. If that happens, I could never do anything that might jeopardize his happiness, no matter how much I miss his touch.**

Mike swallowed hard, not wanting to think about Paige's feelings for Gold, sexual or otherwise. Then something struck him. "Belle? Pretty brunette with an accent?"

Paige nodded. **You know her?**

"Kind of. I met her on the street after the wraith attacked. She had left her boyfriend because he… because _he _sent the wraith after Regina." It was all clicking into place now. He gave a snort that could have been either amusement or irritation. "I thought she was talking about Whale. I mean, I saw him leading an angry mob toward Regina's house, and she said her boyfriend had let his hate get the better of him, and I just assumed… She never actually said who her boyfriend was, but – damn! It makes so much more sense now! It was _Gold_ she went back to!"

**Did you… talk her into it?**

With a wry chuckle, Mike said, "Not exactly. She told me how her boyfriend had lied and given in to his hate, and I told her how my girlfriend was sleeping with another man and was pregnant with his child. Then she kind of talked herself back into it, I guess."

**Still,** Paige signed, **if not for you, there's a possibility that she wouldn't have gone back to him. True, they didn't get back together, but she gave him another chance because of **_**you**_**. **Laying her left hand on Mike's forearm, she used her right to sign, **Thank you.**

Mike blushed and looked uncomfortable. "I didn't do it for him. And, um –" He stopped to clear his throat, not sure he wanted to admit this. Paige probably wouldn't like hearing it. "If I _had_ known she meant Gold, I might even have encouraged her to leave him."

Sensing his discomfort, Paige smiled gently at him. **It's not what you **_**would**_** have done that matters. It's what you actually did. It wouldn't surprise me if Belle had the presence of mind to purposely **_**not**_** mention him by name. I'm sure she knows exactly how people feel about him. What matters here is that, thanks to you, Mr. Gold got another chance at having true love in his life. And even if you don't see it, he deserves that.**

Mike stiffened. "Well," he said, trying to find some other subject to discuss. "Anyway, I… have a lot to do. And think about. So I guess if that's all, you… should go." He knew that had been too brusque, but he couldn't make himself apologize.

Blinking back tears, Paige put both hands to her belly, which was definitely looking more pregnant than overweight. She turned to go.

"Paige?" When she turned back, Mike asked, "_Would_ you be willing to make the choice that would leave her unable to take the throne? If… if it comes to that?"

For a moment, she looked inward. Then she swallowed hard and signed, **I don't know. Maybe. I guess you're not the only one with a decision to make.**

Mike's only reply was a non-committal grunt. They stared at each other for a long moment.

**I'll… go now,** Paige signed. Mike didn't answer, he just watched Paige leave. He blinked, determined to hold back the tears until the door had closed behind her.

* * *

><p>The apparently-empty jar had been easy to find, once Goldilocks looked. It was on a high shelf in the pantry, and she had made sure to leave the jar positioned just as it had been before. She used her small belt knife to slice a few stitches in the hem of her jacket, slipping the parchment into the narrow space. But one end of the parchment was thicker, and she couldn't quite fit it all the way in. Pulling the parchment back out of her hem, she tipped the roll on its end and shook it over her hand. A huge, heavy signet ring fell out into her palm. She stared at it for a moment, then put it aside long enough to slide the parchment into the hem of her jacket. There, those bears would never even notice!<p>

Picking up the ring again, she tried to get a good look at it, but the sun didn't seem to shine into the windows very well. So she went upstairs in search of better light.

She sat down on the first bed – but it was too messy! The covers were all mussed up and tangled, and seemed to want to tangle _her_ up as well! She tried to push the offending tangle of blankets off the bed, but somehow they would only fall half-way off.

When she perched on the edge of the second bed, she felt guilty, like she had been caught in a strict aunt's classy parlor with a little bit of flaky mud on her shoes. This bed was far too neat! Even the pillowcase looked like it had been freshly pressed this morning! When she stood, she tried in vain to smooth the wrinkles she had left behind.

The third bed, however, was made up a bit less neatly than the second. Oh, it looked nice enough, but the pillowcase was not perfectly smooth, and there were a few wrinkles in the bed spread as well, as if the bear who slept here wanted to make his bed look neat, but was not overly concerned with perfection. It felt homier, and somehow friendlier, than the second, without being as disgustingly untidy as the first.

In the light from the window, Goldilocks held up the ring, trying to discern the signet on it, when it fell apart in her hands. At first, she felt her heart in her throat – she hadn't meant to break anything! But then she realized that the ring was meant to do that – it had come apart into three separate rings, each with a portion of the sigil. She could only assume that these rings were used by some ruling body of three somewhere – any one signet would suffice for most orders, but certain things would require the three to come together and make a larger seal. The one that belonged in the middle was somewhat larger than the other two – perhaps one individual was more important, or more powerful, than the others?

Goldilocks yawned. She wasn't sure why, but she was suddenly very tired. She fell asleep on that third bed, and never heard the three bears come home.

* * *

><p>"And look," a rough voice growled, but softly. "She's still there!" Blinking, Goldilocks opened her eyes and immediately gave a small cry of fear. The sight of three huge bears looming over her had frightened her so she couldn't scream any louder, though she wanted to.<p>

The biggest bear said, "Do not fear, young lady," in a voice even rougher than the first. He, too, growled softly, as if trying not to scare her. "We will not harm you."

Breathing much too fast, Goldilocks tried her best to calm down. Clearly, that strange sorcerer had been correct, and the bears had no wish harm her, but it was terrifying to have them all looming over her this way!

"What is your name?" asked the medium-sized bear, the only one who hadn't spoken yet.

"I – I am… Goldilocks," she said. She knew that wasn't truly her name, but she was afraid that if she tried to explain about her memory loss, she would give away the fact that she had stolen something of theirs. Perhaps she had been wrong to agree to the impish man's request.

"Hello, Goldilocks," said the smallest bear, though even he seemed huge to her. "If you were hungry, we would have given you food. We haven't much besides porridge, but there's plenty of that." He was the one who had woken her by announcing that she was still there. "Although I would have preferred that you not lose my place in my book."

Suddenly realizing how she had messed things up downstairs, Goldilocks felt her face grow hot. "I'm sorry," she said softly, almost whispering. "I shouldn't have sat in your chairs, or eaten your porridge. But when I saw you were bears, I was afraid. I didn't want to be eaten."

The big bear said, "Trespassers deserve to be punished, no matter what drove them to trespass."

"Oh, do not frighten the girl," the middle bear retorted. "It has been thus for seven long years, now. How can we blame a stranger when none of our own people know us?" He gave a heavy sigh, tinged with just a hint of a growl. "You cannot blame a person for being afraid. _I _would be afraid if I were a tender little morsel caught by three fearsome beasts. Wouldn't you?" The big bear chuckled at that, but coming from a bear, it was a frightening sound. Goldilocks shivered.

"And besides," the smaller bear chimed in, "you've surely seen the color of her hair as well as I have. And you know what that might mean."

Puzzled, Goldilocks asked, "What about my hair?" It seemed odd that her hair was specifically mentioned as a reason not to hurt her, but it only proved that the strange little imp was right. She wondered who he was. In her haste to reassure him that she was willing to pay his price, she hadn't asked his name.

"It's nothing," growled the big bear, his impatience only making his voice and mannerisms all the more terrifying to the poor girl. She shifted, huddling in on herself so she would look smaller. For some reason, she no longer feared that the bears would eat her, but seeming small and pathetic might make him feel bad for scaring her. If he felt guilty, it might motivate him to keep his temper more in check.

As she shifted, something small and heavy fell to the floor. She jumped off the bed to pick it up, but the ring had fallen into three pieces again. The biggest piece had rolled right under the bed, and when Goldilocks finally reached it, she started putting the ring back together again.

"What is that?" The big bear sounded tense, but the other two spoke almost overtop him, asking to see what she had in her hands.

"I… it's just… this ring I found," she stammered, laying her palms flat so the bears could see. It was still in three pieces. She was so frightened that she had started to cry a little, but the bears didn't seem to notice. They all three were nearly holding their breath.

"That signet," the medium bear finally managed to say. Goldilocks whimpered and pulled back when the bears all reached toward her hands, but she didn't move fast enough. Each bear picked up one piece of the ring, and as they did, all three pieces seemed to catch the sunlight. Goldilocks blinked in the sudden, dazzling light, but when she could see again, the three bears were gone, replaced by three very naked men!

Goldilocks screamed and snatched up the pillow on the bed, holding it in front of her face. Any of those men was old enough to be her father!

"Oh," the first man said. He had been the biggest of the bears. "I am so sorry, Goldilocks!"

The second man, who had been the medium-sized bear, was grabbing blankets for each of them, so they could at least cover themselves. The third wrapped the proffered blanket around himself and went to a small door in one wall. It proved to be a closet, and when opened, it emitted a smell of dried herbs. Mostly mint and rosemary, but there were hints of a few other things as well. After realizing that the men were covering themselves with the blankets, Goldilocks peered interestedly into the tiny space. A sachet hung from a hook along the back of the closet, which was quite shallow, really. But the three shelves were spaced far apart, with the corner of another sachet peeking out from under the bottom shelf, which was nearly on the floor. Each shelf held a full set of clothing.

"I'll go… make some tea, or something," the embarrassed girl said.

"We shall dress," said the first man. "And I hope you'll still be downstairs when are finished. I would like to formally thank you for breaking this terrible spell." Goldilocks seemed hesitant, so he added, "I am a Lord of the Land. Without a king, that grants me considerable power, at least, in this little corner of the world. Ask anything you will of me, and I shall strive to give it to you. You have my undying gratitude."

"Oh, it wasn't really – I mean, it was kind of an accident." She didn't dare tell them where she found the ring, and she knew they would ask. So she fled downstairs and made some noises in the kitchen, but she barely even put the tea kettle over the fire before she fled the house.

* * *

><p>"Not being chased, are we, dearie?" The grating voice intruded on Muffet's thoughts. She had come to herself to find that she was running, but the why was still hazy.<p>

"No, I don't think – I mean, why should I be?" She lifted her chin defiantly. She hated that he had come upon her almost before she even realized she was herself again.

Ignoring her, Rumpelstiltskin asked, "Do you have it? Or are you content to become that useless little Goldilocks?"

Her teeth clenched as the memory of that conceited young man came flooding back. "Do not call me that," she hissed.

"Oh, dear," Rumpelstiltskin said mockingly. He put the back of one hand to his head as if he were feeling faint from distress. "Help, help, whatever shall I do? A scrawny, simpering girl-child is angry with me."

"If you don't stop that, I'll –" Muffet gaped at her empty hands. She had raised them as if to strike at him with her axe, but the weapon was not there. In a flash, she remembered – Guy had taken it! "That bastard," she muttered under her breath. "I swear, when I find him –"

Rumpelstiltskin cut her off. "I rather thought we'd already established that your attacking me wouldn't work. And besides, if you haven't got my parchment, you'll likely swoon at his feet, Goldy! In case you hadn't noticed, that little… interruption of self, as it were, lasted longer. If you become Goldilocks again, there may _be _no coming back."

Muffet swallowed hard. "I – I don't remember." Helpless tears stung her eyes, and she hated herself for it.

"Think hard, dearie. Because I doubt you'll have another chance to acquire anything from those three erstwhile bears."

She did her best to work backward through her day, but her memories were returning in a completely disorganized fashion. She put a hand to her braid, but found her hair loose. Without realizing it, she started braiding her hair by rote as she thought hard. By the time she had tied the end of the braid, her breathing had become shallow and fast, panicky. Sinking to her knees, Muffet was just about to give up when it suddenly struck her. "Yes!" she whispered. Putting her fingers into the torn spot of her jacket's hem, she slid the parchment out. It tried to stick at first, but with a little gentle persuasion, she worked it loose. "Here," she said softly. Then, realizing she was still on her knees, she scrambled to her feet. But she couldn't keep the pleading tone from her voice as she said, "Please, just make sure I never have to be her again. I can't – I just can't!"

Grinning wickedly, Rumpelstiltskin unrolled the parchment. "Just making sure the goods have been delivered intact," he said cheerfully. His greedy eyes skimmed the parchment. This was exactly what he wanted – the Lord's secret invisibility powder recipe! Giggling, he tilted the parchment. A small amount of loose powder fell into his palm, but there was no visual sign of it. Tucking the parchment into his jacket, he broke a piece of bark off a nearby tree and crumbled it over the invisibility powder in his palm. "A drop of blood, dearie, and you'll never be her again."

Drawing her belt knife, Muffet pricked her finger, wincing when she realized she had cut a little deeper than she'd meant to. She pulled a plain handkerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it tightly around her sore finger. Since she had traded Locke's handkerchief for her axe, she had never embroidered again – no great loss, since it was dreadfully boring anyway – but every handkerchief she had was the color of sapphires. Locke's favorite color. As usual when she thought of Locke, she felt an ache, like a cramp that consumed every muscle in her body. And that stupid Goldilocks had _simpered_ over that pompous ass, Guy! She wondered how many other girls he had ensnared with his looks and his smarmy charm.

Taking Muffet's knife in the hand that didn't hold the powder, Rumpelstiltskin flicked the blood onto his spread palm. A swirl of purple smoke rose suddenly, with a crackling sound. With a showy flourish of his wrist, Rumpelstiltskin pursed his lips and blew out one quick breath, blowing the purple smoke across her face. Muffet coughed, and her braid changed to gold, then that golden color dripped from the end of her braid into a bowl that suddenly appeared. Nothing seemed to support the bowl. As the gold dripped away, Muffet's own honey-brown color started to appear, first at her roots, then working its way down her braid until that accursed color was finally gone.

With a high-pitched giggle, Rumpelstiltskin disappeared before Muffet could say a word, but she didn't mind. Now to find that smarmy bastard who had stolen her axe…

* * *

><p>Matilda heard someone say, "Goldilocks!" He sounded glad and surprised, but she couldn't understand why he would be glad to see her.<p>

She stiffened, her jaw set in an angry line. She only slowed for a step, then she kept on walking. He called to her again, and she walked right past him, shouldering him rudely aside.

"Hey, come on," he said. "It's me, Guy! I mean, here I'm Arthur South, but we met before the Curse, remember?" He had the audacity to put a hand on her shoulder!

"You will remove your hand, sir, before I kick your ass like I did back in your little flyspeck village." Her voice was iron-hard.

"Aww, come on, Goldilocks," Arthur said, but Matilda didn't give him a chance to finish that statement. She gripped his wrist and spun herself around, which made his arm twist unpleasantly. Matilda gave a tight grin at his cry of pain. "My name is Muffet, but if that's too hard for you, I'm known as Mat here in this world. I am _not_ Goldilocks. Even this godsforsaken Dark Curse didn't make me go back to _that _hell. And I will never be her again! Ask Rumpelstiltskin if you doubt me."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Arthur said, wincing. After a moment, he asked, "So are you, uh, going to let go, Mat? 'Cuz that kind of hurts."

With a glare, Matilda let go. At least he hadn't called her that awful name again. When she had arrived to collect her axe in the world that was, he had been surprised to see her with her natural hair color. Even though she had explained, he seemed to think she was still Goldilocks. He had tried to charm her, even when she told him she wasn't interested. In the end, she'd had to fight him hand-to-hand to get her axe back. But apparently, that had proved nothing to him – he _still _thought of her as that simpering blonde! It was a reminder that first impressions are very hard to change. She still wondered what Rumpelstiltskin had done with that bowl of golden color, though.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin stood on a small rise along the edge of the woods. That old hag's filthy hovel was just below him, and he smirked to himself. No one broke a deal with him. Not without dire consequences.<p>

The heavy box bumped against his side as he strode toward the pitiful shack. He still wasn't sure what use he might have for this key, but the power he had gained from the red-headed seer had shown him that he would want it for something, someday, and that was reason enough. The door banged open with a peremptory flick of his hand.

"Oh, Megeara!" Rumpelstiltskin's greeting managed to sound both cheerful and dangerous at the same time. The hag's face went pale, and she turned from feeding the child in the cage. The girl didn't bother calling to Rumpelstiltskin for help; somehow, she sensed it would do her no good.

"What do _you_ want?" Meg snapped.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "Teeth blacker than ever, eh, dearie?" Old Meg just stared sullenly at him, so he continued. "Well, I'll just get straight to the point, shall I? You… broke our deal."

The hag's voice was breathy and desperate. "I didn't cast it at full power! I thought –"

"You thought wrong, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin cut in. "And, ah, since that was an old family spell, and since you betrayed your family by giving it to me, that spell will never work properly for you again. Didn't your mother warn you against giving away inherited spells? Even had you cast it at 'full strength,' it would still not have worked properly. Just so you know, the girl is fine – on her way to reclaim her axe, I believe." He strode over to stand by the fireplace. "She also broke that little spell I gave you for that pesky lord and his lackeys." The bowl appeared in his hand, nearly full to the brim of gold-colored liquid. "As I said then, dearie, a golden-haired girl could break that spell, and when you broke our deal, you also created that girl."

"Please," Old Meg croaked, "do not kill me, o Dark One!" She flung herself to the floor at his feet and kissed his boot frantically, hoping that an extreme show of obeisance would save her.

But Rumpelstiltskin just giggled nastily. That old family spell had made a nice addition to that curse he had made, it was true, but a deal was a deal, and although Old Meg's desperation was amusing, he could not allow anyone to get away with breaking their contract with him. Her fate was especially fitting, since the whole point of her making that deal in the first place was because the local lord was getting suspicious of her, and she feared for her life.

"No need to sully my hands with the likes of you," he smirked. Turning to the fireplace, he flung the golden liquid into the flames, but it didn't douse them. Instead, a beam of gold light shone straight up out of the chimney. The hag stared at it in horror, but when she turned to beg again, Rumpelstiltskin was gone.

* * *

><p>The lawman, who had been the smallest bear, pointed at a shaft of gold rising from the forest. "There," he said. "It is exactly as we were told – 'Golden hair shall set you free, and gold shall lead you to justice.' That hag must die. The gods alone know what evil she has inflicted over the past seven years."<p>

The mayor agreed. "I do not doubt that she has earned a swift death over the years."

"So it shall be. She waived her right to any sort of mercy when she cast that spell on us. She has proven her guilt beyond any doubts, and her sentence is death." The Lord of the Land wondered if they would ever see the golden-haired girl again, or if she was some kind of miracle, existing only long enough to free them from the bear spell.

* * *

><p>The mayor carried the little girl outside. She didn't need to see this. The old woman was crying and begging for her life, but with a final, ear-piercing shriek, she fell silent. When the lord and the lawman joined the mayor, the lord took the girl onto his own hip. "Burn it. Let no trace of evil remain."<p>

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold had cleaned and polished several items from his display cases. It was more out of a need to do something than an actual desire to clean anything. He hadn't heard from Belle in nearly a week, and he hadn't visited Paige's dreams since the night she told him to be honest, either. When Belle had suggested they get a hamburger together, his heart had soared, but she hadn't called him yet to set an actual date for it. Perhaps he would visit Paige's dreams again. After all, she deserved to know that her advice seemed to have worked. He hoped she would be happy for him, and it would be nice to have one last night with Paige.<p>

The bell over his door rang as Doctor Whale entered, carrying a large cooler. Gold suppressed a smirk. This was going to be… gratifying.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode, "The Doctor."

The old hag in the Fairy Tale side of this chapter has no connection whatsoever to the blind hag Miranda, who is Lilura/Marsha's mother (and is also Miss Ginger). The fact that she eats children is not intended to connect her in any way, shape, or form with the blind witch from the episode "True North." I named her Megeara (Old Meg, as she calls herself), which is the Latin form of the name of one of the mythological Greek Furies. The name means "grudge." Also, it is mentioned that Old Meg's teeth are black, referring to Marie Brennan's "Onyx Court" novels. Ms. Brennan writes of England, specifically London, but it is a London with a hidden city of Faeries living beneath it. From time to time, mention is made of a Blacktooth Meg, who is the guardian spirit of the River Fleet. However, Meg has become an unpleasant creature, often referred to as a hag, because humans have built over her river, forcing it to flow underground. **I do not own any rights to Marie Brennan's work, nor am I affiliated, in any way, with the author or the publisher of the "Onyx Court" novels.**

The story that is often (and probably incorrectly) credited as the original Goldilocks tale, which was entitled "The Three Bears," was authored by Robert Southey. In his story, they were three bachelor bears, and it was a nosy old woman who trespassed on their property. Over the years, the old woman became a young girl, whose name changed, but often seemed to be related to the color of her hair, until someone hit upon the name Goldilocks, which stuck. The other significant change to Southey's tale is the transformation of the three bachelor bears into a family of bears, with a father, a mother, and a cub. For my story, I am combining these ideas – so a golden-haired young woman trespasses upon three male bears – not necessarily bachelors, but then again, not even real bears in my twist upon the classic tale.

For the purposes of my story, an "inherited spell" is something that is passed down in a family of hags, and was created by an ancestor of that family. The more generations it has been passed down, the stronger its ties to the family. If a hag betrays her ancestors and gives the spell to anyone outside of the family, she is no longer able to properly cast the spell she gave away. It might not work at all, or be much less effective than it should be, and it can also have unexpected side effects, as it did in this case.

And yes, Megeara's spell was incorporated into the Dark Curse Rumpelstiltskin made for Regina. The spell, when done properly, brings out parts of a person's character that are deeply hidden, obscuring their true self and true personality. Under this spell, a person will not remember who they truly are. However, this spell leaves the person as a blank slate, with no fabricated past to match their new persona… **I do not know ABC's intentions regarding the crafting of the Dark Curse. This is for the purposes of my story only!**


	27. S2 Ch6 - The Curious Flame

Finally! It's been a busy summer, but the new chapter is here! Sorry it took so long!

Just wanted to let everyone know that this chapter contains ifrits. For those not aware, these are members of a race known as the djinn, which are generally associated with what the western world refers to as "genies." An ifrit, like other djinn, is a creature without a corporeal form, and according to the religion of Islam, ifrits are capable of choosing between good and evil. However, most ifrits seem to be portrayed as compassionless tricksters at the very least, if not actually evil.

There are many people for whom the existence of ifrits and other djinn is a very serious, real, and vital part of their belief system, much as many people believe in the existence of Christianity's saints, angels, and demons. **I am not trying, in any way, to denigrate anyone's beliefs!** I am using ifrits in a purely fictional sense here, and I am tweaking things to meet the needs of my storyline. It is not my intention to offend anyone, and I very sincerely hope that if any of my readers believe in the djinn, they will forgive me for those tweaks, since this is merely a fictional description of the djinn.

A quick note on pronunciation: Merikh = meh-REEK; Lamia = LAY-me-uh

* * *

><p>Previously on "To Carry On:"<p>

In Storybrooke, Paige has been feeling guilty over the lies she has allowed those close to her to believe. She has begun confessing to some of them that Gold is the father of her unborn child, with mixed reactions. She knows that people don't like Mr. Gold, and that not everyone will take her confession well, but it goes against her conscience not to tell them.

Paige and Ruby have begun striking up a closer friendship with Cassiel, who tends bar at the club they go to. After a conversation with Cassie, and once she realized that Gold had given her a farm run by blueberry farmers from her own kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, Paige went to Cassie's husband, Ethan, to help advertise the new business she plans to start.

Gold has come to Paige in her dreams more than once, using magic to make them more than normal dreams. They have continued their sexual relationship in these dreams, but they have agreed that they will stop if either Belle or Mike decides to pursue true love. Paige is still uncertain how Gold feels about her, but she considers him a very dear friend.

In the Enchanted Forest, we have learned that Eliza's kingdom, Tristan's kingdom, and the war-torn kingdom between were once one. But 500 years before the Dark Curse, that one kingdom was under the leadership of a king named Rolph. Unfortunately, he made some rather poor choices. He first made a new law that enabled him to put aside any wife who did not bear him sons, so that he could remarry in hope of a male heir. Then, when his new wife provided him with twin sons, he plotted against the elder twin because he believed that the younger twin had a better grasp of politics.

When the elder twin gained the loyalty of a large part of Rolph's military forces and decided to establish a kingdom of his own, Rolph's first wife took the opportunity to found _her_ own kingdom. Rolph felt shocked and betrayed, and eventually his own line seemed to die out, leaving his diminished kingdom at war with itself for possession of the crown…

* * *

><p>The underground cavern was huge. One end of it was cordoned off with layers of gauzy curtains, and furnished with carpets of various sizes and tasseled brocade cushions. Fine glass sculptures stood alongside golden cups and vessels in niches along the side walls. The back wall seemed to be a spill of sand - fine, pale grains mixed with coarse, tan grains. In some places, large portions of the sand had been melted into bizarre and twisted glassy shapes, which had a strange sort of elegance despite their somewhat gruesome appearance.<p>

It was the home of two ifrits, Merikh and Lamia. They were creatures of spirit and could become invisible at will, or look and even feel like any other creature. However, when they were not putting a conscious effort into their appearance, they looked like humanoid monsters. Merikh was over eight feet tall, broad of shoulder and quite muscular. He wore only a dark brown loincloth and what appeared to be a leather cape of a lighter brown; however, a closer inspection would reveal that the so-called cape was actually a pair of large, ribbed wings. His wife was nearly a foot shorter, but although she looked rather slender next to Merikh, she would have seemed large in comparison to most human men. She wore a similar loincloth, with a long rectangle of the same fabric wrapped around her back and knotted between her breasts. Her wings were a much lighter shade of brown than her husband's.

They both had reddish-orange hair, and Merikh had short brown horns curving back and up. Their skin was yellow, and their legs bent backward and ended in cloven hooves, like the hind legs of an antelope, but thicker and more muscular.

"Merikh, come sit with me," Lamia said. She was lounging on a very large cushion that they used like a low couch during the day, but which was their bed at night. Now, there was a large pile of smaller cushions to lean back against. She shifted her position to look more seductive.

"You should not have to live this way," he snarled, not even slowing as he continued to pace back and forth, his hair starting to flame. "You should not have to bear the shame of exile!"

"It matters not where we live, husband," she replied. "What matters is that we are together."

"You warned me," Merikh snarled. "You told me not to speak my thoughts so openly, but I did not listen. And those narrow-minded sons of ice –" He cut off, smashing his fist into one of the twisted glass shapes along the back wall. Chunks of glass flew out from the dent his fist left, including one that went toward his wife.

Lamia calmly raised one hand and caught the piece of glass, which was a little smaller in diameter than her hand would be with her fingers splayed wide. "Perhaps you should view this exile as an opportunity." She stared at the chunk of glass, and her hand grew hot, melting the edges of the glass. She began to sculpt it with her other hand.

Merikh turned to face her. "And how is _this_ supposed to be an opportunity?" he snarled, gesturing to the rough walls of the cave.

Lamia just smiled. She did not fear her husband's rare displays of temper. He seldom let it get out of hand, which she thought was a shame. "Out here, the djinn will not… watch your actions as closely. Out here you will be free of their censure."

"How will that help?" he asked, though he sounded intrigued. "There are no humans out here."

She gave a rich chuckle. "Well, as I told the council who exiled you, I needed to fetch some things from the mortal world before I could join you in your banishment." She made the final adjustments on the chunk of glass in her hand, which had taken on the shape of a handsome mortal man.

The implication hung in the air for a moment while Merikh gaped. "You brought mortals here?"

"Well, they'll be here in a few weeks," she said. "The mortal way of traveling is so clumsy and slow." She smiled again, a wicked and sultry smile. "I found a delightful kingdom where the ruling monarch had already alienated many of his subjects by making a new law that enabled him to cast his wife aside since she did not bear him any sons. It was a simple matter to nudge him into forsaking his eldest son, as well. I whispered in the ears of many nobles who remained once those two he had betrayed carved out kingdoms of their own. Those poor, dissatisfied nobles were easy to convince. They'll come here and establish a kingdom of their own, a kingdom founded on so-called justice." Her voice was full of mocking humor; according to their own standards of justice, they were actually rebelling against their rightful king, just as much as his former wife and first son had done. Of course, the king was hardly blameless in all of this, but it was still an amusing thought. Lamia set the finished glass sculpture aside.

"I can experiment!" His face was transformed with wonder.

"I fear your ruins will be torn down and built over," Lamia warned. When Merikh's face darkened in anger, she added, "It is the best place in this area to build a palace, lover. Also, think of the time it will save – we already have a tunnel to the ruins; it will not be difficult to extend that passage into this new palace." She smiled soothingly. "I will save what I can, however. The woman who will be queen has an eye for that which is hauntingly beautiful. That crumbling stone arbor you like so well will catch her fancy, once I whisper in her ear."

Merikh swallowed. "You are right, of course. But… my beautiful ruins!"

"My poor Jareth," Lamia said softly.

Merikh looked at her sharply. "You must not call me that, Lamia. That name has been stricken from me, and I am forevermore Merikh. If the other djinn could hear you…"

"But that is the beauty of exile – they will not hear me speak it." She ran her fingers through his hair. "But if you wish it, I will forget that you once had another name."

"I do wish it. You are still permitted to enter the realm of the djinn on occasion, and I would not risk their wrath if your tongue becomes too careless." Merikh's face darkened again in anger. "They have named me after the Red Planet. So be it. I shall be the bane of this tiny kingdom you have given me. I will bring fire and destruction to those short-lived creatures, as befits my new name. The others thought to protect the poor little mortals from me, but they cannot. If there is a way to combine djinn and human, I will find it, no matter what the cost!"

Lamia looked up at her husband, her eyes filled with pride, and lust. She drew him into a passionate kiss, scattering the pillows so she could lie back for him. His grin was almost feral, which only excited her more.

* * *

><p>When Paige realized that this was one of the dreams, she felt her body react. She turned, and Gold was behind her. He was standing by a very large bed in a lavishly decorated bedroom that looked a bit like a porno set. He eyed her greedily, but with a hint of regret.<p>

"What is it?" she asked, her voice shaking just a bit.

Gold sighed. "You were right, dove. Honesty. Well, Belle certainly didn't rush into my arms or anything, but… we're going to start… dating, I suppose you'd call it."

Paige went up to him and hugged him. "I'm so happy for you," she said softly into his ear.

He took her by the shoulders and pulled back, holding her at arms length so he could look deep into her eyes. "Are you, dove?"

She frowned, but her expression was very fond. "Don't get me wrong, I'm going to miss you. The way you touch me," she said, putting her hands over his, which were still holding her shoulders. Then her gaze slid down his body and lingered on the bulge in his pants. "The way you pleasure me." Her voice was husky, and she had to swallow before continuing. "And, of course," she said, her eyes flicking up to stare hungrily at his lips, "that mouth of yours." She met his eyes. "I'm going to miss our time together, and I'd be lying if said I wasn't just a little bit sad, and maybe a bit jealous, too, that you have Belle back while Mike is still 'deciding,' but of _course_ I'm happy for you!"

The tension drained from Mr. Gold's frame. He could tell that she was being honest with him. "I hope your young man comes to his senses soon," he said, caressing her cheek with the back of his forefinger.

Paige smiled sadly. "Thanks," she said. "Me, too."

"One last night, dove?"

The smile slid from Paige's face. "Are you sure? I don't want to ruin what you have with Belle!"

Now Gold smiled. "Oh, you precious girl. All you can think about is how much you want this, yet you'd deny yourself the pleasure, for _my_ sake?" When she swallowed hard and nodded, he drew her into a hug. "Oh, dove, I don't even know what Belle and I have just yet. So far, it's only a date, and all very vague at that. One last night for us isn't going to harm anything."

He lowered his arms, sliding his hands down her back to pull her lower body in closer to his. He ended with his hands cupping her backside, massaging the soft flesh while pressing her hips against his. With a soft, satisfied sigh, Paige's mirrored him. His erection, pressed against her groin, got harder as she squeezed his buttocks.

"Oh, that's nice, dove," he murmured into her ear.

Her voice breathy with desire, Paige asked, "Can we do that sixty-nine thing again?" Before he could answer, she nipped his earlobe and tugged it gently before letting go.

He moaned, then said, "We have all night, dove." He kissed the side of her neck, working his way down near the base of it, where he bit down. His teeth pressed into her skin lightly at first, but he gradually increased the pressure until she cried out and writhed against him.

"However, I have something specific in mind first." He pulled away from her so suddenly that it left her panting, feeling deprived. Clasping her hand, he led her around to the end of the bed. When Paige saw that his clothes had disappeared, she eyed his body, but before she could concentrate enough to make her own clothing vanish, he said, "Don't. Just wait, dove."

There was a large, ornate stand mirror facing the end of the bed, and Gold positioned Paige so she could see her reflection. She realized suddenly that, although he wore the physical appearance of Mr. Gold, he was once again without his customary limp. He moved to stand behind her, almost as if trying to hide his nakedness behind her body.

Reaching his arms around her, he began to undress her slowly, sensuously. As his fingers expertly worked the buttons on her dress shirt, he leaned into her back, kissing and nibbling at her neck. In the mirror, he watched her face as she trembled with desire, watching his fingers. As he started to undo the button that was almost level with her nipples, she whimpered softly and arched her back, pushing her breasts against his hands.

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she panted for breath. Once he had her shirt unbuttoned, he leaned back and slid it slowly down her arms, whispering, "Open your eyes, dove. I want you to watch." She did, her gaze following his hands as he tossed the dress shirt aside and rested his hands on her hips. She licked her lips as she watched his hands slide up her body, her tank top catching on his wrists and riding up with the motion of his hands.

When he reached her bra, he slid his hands further around to cup her impressive breasts, massaging them through the thin, silky fabric. She moaned and writhed, her eyes fluttering shut as he pinched her nipples. But her eyes popped open again almost immediately as she recalled his request. She gave him a slightly guilty look in the mirror. Gold just smirked and told her to raise her arms, sweeping the tank top over her head and letting it fall to the floor.

He slowly removed her bra, making sure to tantalize her as much as he could in the process. Once she was naked from the waist up, he moved to stand beside her and lifted one breast to his mouth. In the mirror, she watched his tongue trace the curve of her areola before flicking over her nipple. Since he was standing beside her, she could see most of what he was doing. He drew her nipple into his mouth, and she gasped in pleasure when she felt his teeth gently graze the delicate flesh. Then she watched, fascinated, as his jaw worked. He was sucking her nipple, hard.

"Oh, God," she moaned, but then she gasped as he suddenly let go. He repeated the entire process on the other side, then stood behind her again. Her nipples were still quite sensitive after his attentions, and when he gently brushed his fingers over them, that light touch made her moan again and arch her back.

Gold drew his hands down Paige's body to the waistband of her dress pants, and then lower. Her eyes followed, watching him stroke his fingers firmly between her legs. Without being told, she widened her stance to give him greater access. "Try not to move, dove," he said in her ear. Though his voice was soft, Paige knew his words were meant as a command. She had never seen him act quite so dominant before, and she found that she rather liked it. When Mr. Gold unbuttoned and unzipped Paige's black dress pants, he didn't pull them down. Instead, he worked his hand down the front of her pants, inside her panties as well. He reached far enough to stroke her opening. "Already wet, dove?" he asked, smirking at her in the mirror.

"Aren't I always?" she asked softly in return, blushing a little to admit it. Her voice was a touch hoarse with her desire. His smirk deepened as he looked down at the reflection of her groin. Her eyes followed his, and he slid his fingers forward on her body. His hand made a bulge in her pants, a bulge that seemed to pulse rhythmically as he stroked her sweet spot.

She did her best to keep her body still, but his steady, relentless pace wore her down, and she gripped his arms hard for balance as her hips began to buck helplessly. But she was still trying very hard to keep herself from moving, so her orgasm took her by surprise. She cried out, her knees buckling. Mr. Gold held her upright.

When Paige came back to herself, she blinked. Her gaze quickly found Gold's in the mirror, and he was watching her with greedy eyes. He hand was no longer down her pants, and she found she couldn't remember him removing it.

"Very good, dove," Gold whispered in her ear. "Thank you for that. And for the rest of the evening, you may move as you'd like. But we're not quite done with the mirror yet," he added.

Paige swallowed. What else did he want to do with that mirror? But she soon found out.

Gold sat on the end of the large bed. He told Paige to straddle him, but facing away from him. She swallowed. This left her facing the large stand mirror positioned at the foot of the bed, which meant that she could see herself in this lewd position. She lowered herself over Mr. Gold, sheathing him inside her body. His hands slid from her sides to her breasts, kneading gently. Her cheeks flushed. Watching her hips rise and fall, watching his hands on her body – it just seemed so dirty. And so erotic, too.

She leaned forward a bit so she could find a better angle, but when she found it, she felt very unsteady. She didn't want to fall off the bed, especially not like this. Suddenly, the mirror had what looked handles on the front of its gilt frame. Paige wasn't sure if she had done that, or if Gold had, but she didn't hesitate to use them.

As she adjusted herself, the mirror tilted, the bottom coming forward a bit and the top going back. Paige licked her lips. This gave her a whole different view. She could actually _see_ her most intimate parts, rising and falling over Gold's erection.

Catching her deepening embarrassment, he asked, "How's the view, dove?"

"I can see it… going in and out of me," she said, her voice husky and hesitant.

Gold could still see her face in the mirror, though at an angle now, and he reveled in her discomfort. Because as inappropriate and tawdry as she found this position, she was also turned on by it. In fact, she was close to orgasm. Since Paige wasn't going fast enough to bring him at the same time, he gripped her hips and started to thrust himself into her. She cried out, but though her eyelids fluttered, she did not let her eyes fall shut, as she usually would. "That's right, dove," he said roughly. "Watch closely."

She even managed to keep her eyes open through the majority of her orgasm, watching afterward as he withdrew from her body, glistening with their combined fluids. Her cheeks were flushed, and he knew it was only partly from her arousal. She gave a small shudder and closed her eyes. Gold smirked to himself, realizing that it had been awhile since he had been able to get her this embarrassed. As much as he had enjoyed watching her own her desires, he had kind of missed this.

He swept her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. "Well, how shall we spend the rest of our night, dove?"

She climbed off the bed and looked at him, but she was having a hard time meeting his eyes. He just smirked at her. A bit hesitant, she asked, "Can we really… go all night?"

"Well, these dreams don't let our bodies get as much rest as regular sleep, so we _will_ be rather tired in the morning," he said, "but if you're willing to accept that, then yes, we can go all night." He watched her face, but she was getting over her embarrassment. It was a shame, but then again, it seemed he would have all night to embarrass her again. Suddenly, he remembered something. "Oh, and by the way, dove, I realized this morning that there have been a few of these dreams that I haven't yet… repaid you for," he said, smirking slightly.

"Oh, Mr. Gold, there's no need –" she started, but he raised one hand, interrupting her.

"It's how I operate, dove. You can't get something for nothing, and making certain that you get your pleasure is selfish on my part," he said. "It pleases _me_ to make sure that you enjoy yourself, so I do not count your pleasure as payment for the things you allow me to do to you." His smirk seemed almost arrogant as he talked about Paige's pleasure. "For the dreams prior to this evening, with the exception of the first, I will arrange for nursery furniture to be delivered to your home. That back bedroom would make a nice nursery, and I know you don't have anything for the baby yet. But since you now spend much of your time at the farm I gave you, I'll leave instructions that you are to be texted, or Michael to be called, with a date and time of delivery."

"Thank you, Mr. Gold," she replied. "For the farm, as well. But… don't have them call Mike. I've barely seen him this past week. He's… pulling away while he tries to make his decision. On whether or not he and I have a future together." Even though there was always a chance that he would choose to leave her, she now feared that he _would_ choose to marry her, but only after her baby was born. Could she make that choice, even if it was the only way she could keep her true love?

Gently brushing her hair out of her face, he said softly, "I'm so sorry, dove. I hope he makes the right choice. Perhaps… perhaps you two could take it slow, as Belle and I seem to be doing."

Paige smiled gratefully at him. "Give them Dr. Horne's number instead. He's helping me with the farm."

"Of course, dove," Gold said. "Now, as for tonight. After our… experiments, with the mirror, you deserve something truly special." He grinned widely as Paige blushed, reliving the embarrassment for a moment. When she would meet his eyes again, he held up an ornate skeleton key that was made of pure silver. "This is enchanted. It will arrive in small, lead-lined box, inside another box. It will arrive in the morning, so don't go to the farm until you have received it. The key itself must not be touched by any hand but yours. I will calibrate it specifically to you. When you place it under your pillow at night, it will give you some measure of control over your dreams. It will be much like lucid dreaming. It won't feel as real, or be as… strenuous, as these dreams I've had with you, but you will decide what happens. So if you're lonely, or you miss me, you can dream of me, but be warned – it all comes from inside your own head, so any reactions from me or others in your lucid dreams will be whatever _you_ wish them to be, and not the true reactions of whomever you include in your dreams."

Paige swallowed, staring at the key. "That's… I don't know what to say." He had said that he _would_ calibrate it to her, not that he already had, so this was not something he had planned to give her ahead of time. She felt tears sting her eyes. Had he decided to give her this because of what she had said? Because she had proven that she truly cared about him? Maybe Archie was right, after all. "Saying 'Thank you' doesn't seem like enough. This is… I'll treasure it," she said. She leaned in and hugged him, feeling suddenly embarrassed at her display of emotion.

"By the way," she said, pulling back. "I should probably tell you. The baby… if, ah, I'm… not married, when she's born, she cannot take the throne."

Gold looked deep into Paige's eyes. "Why are you telling me this, dove?"

"Because she's your child, too. Because I think you deserve to know."

With a gentle smile, Gold said, "I have no interest either way in being the father to a queen. That decision is yours to make, dove, not mine." Paige seemed pained by his words, so he chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. "Besides, you've made it abundantly clear that I failed to… _negotiate_ any rights to her. She is yours to do with as you will." When his attempt at humor failed to lift Paige's spirits, he went for a more serious approach. "And quite aside from that, I will stand behind _any_ choice you make regarding her, dove."

His words had only served to remind her that she had a tough choice to make. Feeling sad now, Paige leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his embrace, and felt her body tighten deliciously. She remembered how strange she had thought it, that he seemed to find sex comforting. Maybe he had something there, after all.

Her cheek still pressed against his chest as he held her tight, Paige deliberately mimicked his words from earlier. "So," she said teasingly, "how _shall_ we spend the rest of our night?"

* * *

><p>The next morning, Paige made a face when her alarm went off. She yawned and grabbed her phone. Pulling up Dr. Horne's number, she texted him, saying that she hadn't slept well and intended to take the morning off. As she was drifting back to sleep, the sound her phone made when he replied startled her awake again. He told her that it was fine, and that he should probably spend some time tending to his own business, anyway.<p>

About an hour after that, Paige woke up on her own. She was still tired, so she couldn't think what woke her, but she got up and used the bathroom, then headed downstairs to make some breakfast. She could always nap afterward if she wanted. Just as she finished scrambling some eggs, her doorbell rang. It made her heart jump into her throat. Would this be the key Mr. Gold had promised her?

A teenaged boy she didn't know was at her door. "Are you Paige Cygnus?"

She nodded, starting to write on the pad of paper she'd brought with her, but he interrupted her. "No need, Mr. Gold explained your… um, situation. All I need is your signature." He looked distinctly uncomfortable when he mentioned Gold's name, and Paige wondered what hold the man had over this boy. But she signed the sheet and took the box. It was not only larger than she'd expected, but heavier as well. But she reminded herself that he had said the inner box would be lead-lined. She closed the door behind the boy, forgetting him quickly as she ripped open the outer box. There were no less than three clasps on the small, lead-lined box inside, and when she opened it, she found that the key was nestled in a depression in the center of the box.

Suddenly feeling almost hesitant, she picked up the key. It felt warm for a moment, sending a tingle through her entire body. When the feeling passed, the key was cool in her hand. She swallowed, feeling overwhelmed by Mr. Gold's gift. She wasn't sure if she was truly that touched, or if it was her pregnancy hormones, but she decided that it didn't matter. This was proof that he cared about her, proof that he thought of her as a friend even if he didn't realize it himself.

* * *

><p>On Lamia's advice, Merikh had waited until the queen had borne three children before he began his experiments. She had pointed out that the humans considered royalty to be better than the average human, and that this fledging royal family may become stronger and better suited to his purposes over the generations.<p>

And it seemed she may have been right to caution him. He had disguised himself as the king so he could lie with the queen, and she had barely survived the encounter. She miscarried quite early in the pregnancy, and the results had left her unable to bear more children.

Growling in frustration, the ifrit said, "Maybe the others were right. Maybe humans are not strong enough to bear our powers."

"Oh, my cherished one," Lamia said softly, "do not allow one failure to upset you. As I said before, the royal descendants may become stronger." She looked thoughtful, but only murmured, "I wonder…"

When she didn't continue, Merikh asked, "What is it? Have you had some idea concerning my experiments?"

"Well, it occurred to me that if a human female is unable to bear a half-djinn child, perhaps it must be a djinn female that carries the seed of a human." She tapped her lips, staring into the distance as if lost in thought.

Merikh smirked at her. "Do you think to fool me, o wife? I have seen the desire in your eyes whenever we discuss the king." Lamia gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence, then bit her lip and smiled. Her husband continued, "If you desire him, then take him. Besides, as you have already mentioned, it would be good to test that variable as well."

"You are not angry, Merikh?"

"Why should I be?" he asked. "It is your body, to do with as you will."

"I always felt that you were the type to grow jealous of others touching your things," Lamia remarked.

"You are correct, I do not like that," her husband replied. "But you are my wife, a fellow ifrit, not a thing. You have a will of your own, and far be it from me to keep you from slaking your lust." After a moment's thought, he added, "However… may I watch, as you watched me with the queen?" Lamia blushed slightly, and Merikh said, "Yes, I thought I felt your presence then." He grinned. "Did I perform well for you?"

"Oh, yes, husband. It was quite a show." Lamia gave him a mischievous look. "I hope my performance will be as pleasing to you."

* * *

><p>A few nights later, Ruby and Paige went to the club, which was called The Catacombs, though everyone just called it The Cat. In fact, their logo was a black cat in a tunnel because of the nickname.<p>

Paige wanted to tell Ruby the truth, but the club wasn't exactly a good place for it. She was trying to act natural, but she was sure that she was failing miserably.

"Hey, let's get a drink," Ruby said, loudly enough to be heard over the music.

Paige nodded and hoped her smile looked genuine. She was starting think she should have sat down with Ruby before they came here, but Ruby had been so excited to go out that Paige hadn't wanted to risk ruining the evening.

When they got to the bar, Cassie gave them a bright smile. "Be with you in sec," she said before turning back to the group of guys who had gotten there first.

The bar area was in a sort of open alcove – it was only the height of a single step above the dance floor, but the ceiling wasn't as high. The club had been converted from a residential building with an open floor plan. The dance floor was in what had probably once been a great room and dining area, with cathedral ceilings. That seemed to affect the acoustics somewhat, so that the music wasn't as loud here as it sounded on the dance floor.

"Are you alright, Paige?" Ruby asked. When Paige licked her lips and nodded, Ruby added, "You seem a little down tonight. Are you just tired, or is something... wrong?"

Paige took a deep breath. **Well, I am kind of tired,** she signed. **But… there **_**is**_** something I need to talk to you about. It's not really something we should discuss here, though.**

"Well, I'm off tomorrow, so we could do lunch?" Ruby suddenly remembered that Paige didn't have a car. In fact, she wasn't sure Paige even knew how to drive. "I can pick you up, just tell me when and where!"

Cassie's voice startled Paige. "Would you guys mind if I joined you? I'm free for lunch."

Ruby smiled at the bartender, but waited for Paige's confirmation before saying, "Sure, Cass! If you give me your number, I'll text you and let you know what time!"

While the bartender wrote her number on a piece of paper, Paige looked at Ruby and signed, **We can talk when you drop me off at the Farm after lunch.** She had to translate the phrase "drop me off," and by then Cassie had handed the paper over, along with a second, blank sheet.

"Could you and Paige write down your numbers for me?" she asked.

"Sure!" Ruby said, taking the pen Cassie was offering. Paige smiled awkwardly across the bar while she waited for her turn with the pen.

Once Cassie tucked the paper into her pocket, she asked Paige, "Sprite? Or I could make you a virgin daiquiri, or something like that – I got some great new recipes off the internet. If you like fruit, you could try the Fruit Salad Daiquiri – no one's tried that one yet, and I really want to make one."

**What's in it?** Paige signed, and Ruby translated.

Ticking the ingredients off on her fingers, Cassie recited, "Light rum, pina colada mix, strawberries, watermelons, and star fruit, blended with ice. And if I cut out the rum, viola! A virgin drink!"

Paige lifted her eyebrows. She liked most of the ingredients, but she'd never tried star fruit before. She smiled and nodded.

"Great," Cassie said. "And please, if anyone asks what you've got, tell them about it! Or, well, have Ruby tell them, I guess." She looked chagrined, as if she worried that Paige would think she was being rude. "Anyway," Cassie continued, turning to Ruby, "I have this great new drink _you_ should try, it's called Lone Wolf."

Ruby went still. "Um, why that particular drink?"

"I don't know," Cassie shrugged. "It just seems like something you'd like. It's light rum, SoCo peach liqueur, triple sec, and lemon juice, and it's really good!"

Licking her lips nervously, Ruby said, "Uh, in case you forgot, I'm only nineteen, I can't drink."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, according to _this_ world's laws, but the Curse was broken. There was no 'legal age' for drinking in our world, silly!"

"Well, yeah," Ruby conceded, "but I'm driving, so I can't drink."

"Alright, maybe another time," Cassie said, shrugging. "What would you like instead?"

"Um, just what you're making for Paige, I guess," Ruby answered, sounding uncomfortable. There was a knot in her stomach. Wolfs time was fast approaching, and just hearing the word wolf had reminded her that she hadn't changed in 28 years. What if the wolf was stronger because of that? What if she lost her hard-earned control? She blinked and shook her head slightly, trying to rid herself of such thoughts. "Virginized, like hers."

"Okay," Cassie said brightly. "Two virgin Fruit Salad Daiquiris, coming right up!" She walked over to the counter behind her and started mixing.

It was Paige's turn to ask if Ruby was okay, and Ruby swallowed. What if Paige hated her because she turned onto a wolf? Or, worse, was afraid? "It's nothing, really. I guess it kind of weirded me out when she offered me an alcoholic drink."

**Didn't you order something alcoholic when we met August here?** Paige looked confused.

"Actually, no, but I guess you didn't hear my order. I think that's when you had signed something and August was trying to piece together what you meant." Ruby smiled, remembering August's smooth way of telling the stories that had so captivated her. There was something almost sensual about him at times, and he was probably just looking for a one-night stand, but still, she wasn't sure that it mattered. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since before the Curse. I mean, his stuff's all still there, but he hasn't been around. I wonder what happened to him."

Paige bit her lip, and Ruby saw that her own sudden realization had distracted her friend. Which was definitely a good thing. How could she possibly tell Paige what she really was?

Just then, Cassie came back with their drinks. "On the house," she said. When they'd both taken a sip, all she needed was the surprised delight on their faces. "Good, then, huh?" After they had both nodded, she tuned to her next customer, looking back over her shoulder to say, "Just let me know about tomorrow, 'kay?"

Ruby surfaced from the fruity drink long enough to say, "Will do!"

* * *

><p>The next morning, Paige could barely focus at the Farm. Part of her wanted to scream at the men working in the front room. The design she had chosen would make their shop look like a homey, country-style kitchen, so instead of regular shelving units, there would be counters with both upper and lower cabinets, though a little over half of the upper cabinets would actually be wooden wine racks.<p>

The cabinets and counters would arrive in a few days, so right now, Malcolm and George Blue were in the process of installing the new stone floor tiles, with help from Ed Grove and Dr. Horne. Paige had a sample of the new flooring and a sample of the new cabinets, and was supposed to be using them to pick out colors for area rugs so their decorator could put together a selection for Paige to choose from. But knowing that she would be meeting up with Ruby later, and telling her the truth, made it very hard to concentrate, so she ended up listening to snippets of the men discussing their chore. But she was genuinely trying to focus on her own task, so she was only hearing parts of the conversation.

"I need someone taller over here," she heard George say.

"What do you mean, taller," Ed snarled. Paige rolled her eyes. The young knight had always been sensitive about his height. "Are you calling me a shrimp? Huh? We're doing the floor, not the ceiling, you jerk!"

Smiling, Paige remembered some of the trouble Elrick had gotten into back in her father's kingdom, especially before he was knighted. She was so deep in her reminiscing that she missed George's explanation for why he needed someone taller. Tears pricked her eyes as she remembered those days. That was before her brothers had been turned to swans, before all of this had happened. Some of these memories were during the brief time, not quite half a year, between her masquerade and the swan spell. That short, sweet time when everything in her life was pointed straight at happily ever after.

Suddenly choked up, Paige went through the door to the long corridor between greenhouses. The public bathroom hadn't been put in yet, so she had to go almost all the way to the back of the building. She didn't want anyone to see her crying; even if it was the truth, she was sick of hearing comments about pregnancy hormones.

* * *

><p>"How many generations must we wait? How long before this young royal line grows strong enough?" Merikh snarled.<p>

"I wish I knew," Lamia replied. "But it has only been five generations, husband. Give them time. After all, time is one thing we have in abundance."

"Do not patronize me, wife!" he snarled. "You told me to wait; well, I've waited. And for nothing!"

"Surely you have not tried everything, husband," Lamia said, unfazed by his anger. Over the past hundred years, he had become less and less able to contain that temper of his. He truly had become Merikh. She turned away from him to hide a small, satisfied smirk. This was what she had seen in him, why she had married him in the first place. He was an ifrit with an insatiable curiosity, and he had finally allowed his ruthlessness to blossom. Curiosity could never be truly sated without hurting someone, and now he was capable. In an off-handed tone she added, "Didn't you once tell me you wondered if an ifrit could temporarily attach a part of his essence to a human in order to lend it strength?"

Merikh blinked, surprised. "You speak truly, wife," he said slowly, considering. "If I give the next queen part of my own essence, perhaps she could survive to bear my child."

"Once again, it would seem prudent to ensure that the lineage will continue first," Lamia mused, making it sound like an idle thought. "Although I do worry, husband," she said. "I fear there might be… unpleasant consequences, should the experiment not go as planned."

"What would you suggest, Lamia?" His eyes glittered dangerously. He had grown to dislike her frequent dalliances with the kings and princes of this tiny kingdom. It had become apparent long ago that a human's seed could not survive in her womb.

"Only that I could bear you a child, Merikh. Then you can use our child's essence in your experiments." She gave him a smoky, seductive look. She knew that his jealousy had begun to assert itself, so she was well aware of what he had been thinking.

"Well thought out, wife," he said, his anger moderated by her answer. He knelt in front of the cushions she lounged upon. Leaning forward, he kissed her deeply.

* * *

><p>Cassie was already seated at a booth when Ruby and Paige came into the diner. She smiled and waved. "Over here," she called. When they were closer, she said, "I hope you don't mind a booth instead of a table."<p>

"Not at all," Ruby said brightly. Paige smiled and shrugged to show that it really didn't matter to her.

Their waitress came over. "Good afternoon, ladies, and welcome to Granny's Diner!" she said, clearly trying to pretend that Ruby was just a regular customer. Ruby smiled to herself – she already knew what the woman was about to say, since she had picked out today's specials herself. Meanwhile, the waitress went through the rest of her spiel for the day, giving her name, listing off those specials and finally asking what they wanted to drink.

Cassie said, "I'll take a Coke, please."

Paige signed to Ruby, who said, "Paige and I will both take water, and if you know what you want, Cass, we're ready to order."

"Actually, yeah," Cassie answered. Turning to the waitress, she said, "I'll take a cheeseburger, cooked medium, with nothing else on it, and French fries."

"Would you like me to bring out some ketchup?" asked the waitress.

"Yes, please," Cassie replied.

The waitress, knowing Paige was mute, turned to Ruby, who said, "Paige would like the grilled chicken tenders with the brown rice pilaf, and steamed vegetables on the side." She stopped to read Paige's hands, and after a quick text to translate a sign she didn't recognize, she added, "And if we have sweet and sour sauce for dipping, she'd like some of that, if not, she'll take honey mustard." Ruby's mind raced as she tried to remember if there was any sweet and sour sauce in the back, but she just wasn't sure.

"Okay," said the waitress, writing it all down. "And the usual for you, Ruby?"

"No, actually, I'll take a hamburger. Medium-rare. With just a little mayo, some onion, and lots of bacon." She was really craving meat right now. "With steak fries."

The waitress scribbled Ruby's order onto her little pad and said, "Alright, ladies, I'll bring out your drinks in just a sec!"

They chatted about inconsequential things, thanking their waitress when she brought out their drinks, and later, their food. While they waited, their talk would have appeared light-hearted to any observer, but all three young women were forcing themselves to be cheerful. Ruby was worrying about wolfs time, and Paige was wondering if she could maybe let Ruby keep on believing the lie for just a bit longer. But once the waitress had brought out their meals and walked away, Cassie seemed to get more serious.

"So, this might sound weird, but... what all was happening in our world? I mean, everyone says the mayor cast the Curse, but I had never heard of Regina until we were here, and the Curse was broken. I don't even really know Snow White. I, uh, I know she was framed _here_ for killing that guy's wife, but then she wasn't really dead after all – everybody knew about that, though." Cassie colored slightly. "I… believed it, until the wife was found." She sounded quite embarrassed by that.

Ruby reached over and patted Cassie's hand. "So did a lot of people."

Cassie smiled gratefully. "Anyway, my husband and I are from this tiny little kingdom in the middle of nowhere, my ancestors left another kingdom when it split into three, and ever since, the kingdom my people founded has been, well, out of touch. There are… awful creatures in the woods, half-wolf, half-human…" She shuddered. "I saw one once, when I was younger. They're hideous."

Ruby turned to Paige. "That sounds kind of familiar," she said. Paige had been explaining some of the Blueberry Kingdom's history to her.

**It does,** Paige signed. She signed to Ruby again, who then told Cassiel the story of Rolph spurning his first wife, and then plotting against his first-born son.

"Paige says that was about five hundred years ago," Ruby finished.

Cassie blinked and opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. She tried again and managed to say, "Oh! I guess I didn't realize it was that long ago. So, how are things in what was left of Rolph's kingdom?"

Ruby told Cassie about how what was left of Rolph's kingdom had ended up in civil war, and how there had been rumors that a king would soon emerge, but that candidate had suddenly lost support when it was discovered that his son had been switched at birth. She only needed the occasional reminder from Paige. After she summed up Eliza and Andrew's betrothal agreement, Ruby switched over to the kingdoms she was more familiar with, telling the story of Regina's resentment, and how she wanted to destroy Snow and Charming's happiness. "And that's why she cast the Curse, see? To keep them apart."

"Wow," Cassie said softly. "I didn't realize so much was going on outside my little kingdom." She smiled, but still looked shell-shocked. "Well, ah, thanks so much for telling me all this," she said.

Suddenly, Paige turned away.

"You okay?" Ruby asked.

**This may sound strange, but could you and Cassie turn your plates around?** Paige replied.

Ruby gave Paige a confused look. "Oh… kay…" She turned her plate around and told Cassie to do it, too. Then she turned back to Paige. "Um, why?"

**Sorry, but your burgers are pink, and yours looked like it might bleed at me, and it was just turning my stomach.**

"Oh," Ruby said. "Does it bother you normally, or is it just your pregnancy?"

**Just the pregnancy, I guess, **Paige signed. **I mean, I never noticed any issue with it before.**

"What happened?" Cassie asked.

"It was our burgers," Ruby explained. "They're not well-done, and looking at them turned her stomach. She says it never bothered her before she got pregnant."

"Ah," Cassie said. She pretended to jump and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. She immediately put the phone on silent so it wouldn't give her away if it actually did go off, then opened up the text screen, glad that Paige and Ruby were sitting across from her. After scanning the screen for a moment, she said, "Hey, um, Ethan wants me to go in to his office so we can eat together." She felt like it was a lame excuse, so she added, "But I can tell him I'm out with friends, though."

"Oh, no," Ruby said. "He works days and you work nights, so I'm sure you guys don't get to spend too much time together. We can get you a box for this so you can take it with, if you want. Would he like you to bring him something?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Cassie said. "He packed leftovers from his dinner last night. But a box for this stuff would be great." While Ruby flagged down their waitress and asked for a box, Cassie dug some money out of her purse. "Here," she said, counting out some cash. "This should cover my lunch, when you guys pay. Just add the extra to the tip." She smiled and thanked the waitress, who had brought a Styrofoam container.

"Here you go," the woman smiled. "Did you need anything else before you go?"

"No, thanks," Cassie replied. She packed up her food.

The waitress turned to Paige and Ruby. "Anything else I can get you ladies?"

Paige shook her head no, and Ruby said, "Not right now, thanks!"

The waitress went to check her other tables, and Cassie stood, putting the box into the plastic bag the waitress had also brought. "Sorry to eat and run, ladies!"

"No problem," smiled Ruby. "Maybe we can do this again sometime!"

"Yeah, that'd be fun!" Cassie said. "Well, see you two later, then!"

"Have fun with your hubby," Ruby said, smirking suggestively and giving an exaggerated wink.

Cassie gave a startled laugh. "Um, yeah," she said. She seemed a little embarrassed. "Well, bye!" She waved and left before Ruby could say anything else.

Ruby turned to Paige. "So… you wanted to discuss something?"

**Not here. Last week, George and Duncan put up a new… well, sort of a landscaping feature at the end of the Farm's driveway, by the road. We can talk there.** Paige suddenly wasn't sure she could finish her food.

"Okay," Ruby replied.

* * *

><p>Cassie left her food in the car and rushed into her husband's office. She didn't even notice that none of his employees were at their desks. Once in his office, she closed the door behind herself and leaned against it.<p>

Ethan was finishing up some paperwork when she came in, but one look at her face and he was at her side in an instant. He was old enough to be her father, but they had never let their age difference bother them. "Cassie, what's wrong?" he said, his voice tender and worried.

"I was just out with Ruby, you know, from the diner? And a girl named Paige – she's the heir to the Blueberry Kingdom!"

"Paige? Well, I guess that shouldn't surprise me, since she owns that new business, the Blueberry Farm. She's a client of ours, you know." Ethan looked down into his wife's face. She was near tears. "Please, my love, tell me what's wrong." A strand of hair had fallen into her face, almost over her left eye, and he brushed it into place with his fingertips.

Cassie licked her lips. Her voice was almost hoarse as she said, "Paige said… that it's been five hundred years since King Rolph put aside his first wife. Five _hundred_!" She stared at Ethan, her eyes wide.

He blinked and swallowed, doing the math in his head. "Then it's been… two hundred and thirty four years since we made that deal."

"Time stopped for _everyone_ while that blasted Curse was in effect," Cassie said bitterly. "He used us! He only wanted to test it, to see if he could freeze time so he could make that disgusting Curse!"

Putting his hands on Cassie's shoulders, Ethan said, "He _did_ tell us we would be doing him a great service, my love. We just couldn't understand what it was back then."

"I just feel… I don't know, tainted somehow. Like maybe the Curse is partly our fault." Cassie stepped closer, drawing Ethan's arms around herself and snuggling against him.

"Oh, Genevieve," he whispered, using her real name from the Enchanted Forest. "If we hadn't made that deal, he would have found someone else. The Dark One is not so easily thwarted in getting what he wants." He shifted his head so he could kiss Cassie's forehead. "Besides, my love, we would have died all those years ago, and not have been able to marry or have a life together without his aid, and I, for one, cannot regret making that deal."

"But… my sisters."

"Hush, love. I know." Ethan leaned down to kiss his wife, and she went up on her toes to meet him halfway. Their kiss grew passionate, and Ethan ran his hands up under the hem of Cassie's shirt.

She pulled back a bit. "Here? Really?" she asked. "What if someone comes in?"

"First of all, their usual lunch hour, and mine, just started. They seldom have any reason to disturb me during lunch." Ethan walked over and locked the office door. "Secondly, I happen to own this business, so how I spend my time is no one's concern but my own." He took off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. "And lastly, I don't get to spend nearly enough time with my wife." He moved to the small sofa along one wall and sat down, smirking as he crooked his finger at her. "Come here, young lady."

Cassie walked over and stood in front of him. She bit her lip as she stared down at him. When he grabbed the front of her pants and pulled her down onto him, so she was straddling his lap, she smirked back at him, saying, "You old pervert."

"Gold digger," he whispered between kisses along her jaw.

"Cradle-robber," she whispered back before turning her head to catch his lips with her own.

* * *

><p>Over the next several generations, Merikh used up his son's essence, little by little, in his experiments. When those experiments failed, his wife bore him another child, a girl this time. He decided to put all of his daughter's essence into the queen he was experimenting on at that time, but though the pregnancy lasted longer than any of the others, the woman still miscarried.<p>

But Merikh was determined. He knew he was getting closer, and a new idea had occurred to him. The current queen had borne ten children already, all girls, and there was another on the way. Merikh had listened to the ethers, and he believed this one would be a girl as well, though there was something odd about it that he could not quite figure out. But no matter.

Lamia did not yet know it, but she was essential to his plan. One night he had given her potent liqueurs, then made love to her many times. When she finally fell into a deep sleep, he had extracted just a tiny bit of her essence, and mingled it with the blood of the current queen – not just any blood, but a few drops from her wedding night, when the king took her maidenhead. Then he divided the mix in two and put one part into his wife, and one part into the human queen, tying them together.

For each of the ten girls the queen had borne, Lamia had given birth to a son. He hadn't meant it that way, but it seemed that linking his wife with the queen was causing Lamia to give birth to children of the opposite gender as the queen. It wasn't important, though. The gender of his own children was meaningless for this experiment, although he had not hesitated to shape his plans around it.

Merikh was raising these sons to help with his work – when the girls grew old enough, they would be lured down into what Merikh often thought of as the Underground. His sons would appear to them as handsome princes, who would offer a feast, followed by dancing late into the night – and wine. Lots of wine. Merikh was making a potion, something of his own devising, that he would put into that wine. Over time, it would slowly and subtly change the girls, making it easier, he theorized, for his sons to eventually possess the girls. Then, with their human bodies subtly altered, and with his sons inhabiting their bodies, it should be possible to create a hybrid child.

This time, he was not going to use only the essence of his own children. That had already failed, but it had occurred to him that, if his sons simply possessed the girls while still alive, if his sons controlled the bodies of the girls, it just might do the trick. Of course, the potion that altered the girls should make them more receptive to this method, but it would also mean that his sons could never be extricated – if those frail human bodies died, so would his sons, but he had already sacrificed two of his own children for his experiments, so what of losing a few more? Also, the mortal girls' life spans should be drastically increased, though they wouldn't live as long as a djinn.

* * *

><p>Ruby pulled into the Farm's driveway. There was a graveled area near the road, and Ruby parked there. Paige and Ruby got out and crossed the drive.<p>

"What is that?" Ruby asked, smiling.

It looked like a large domed arbor, except that it seemed to be made of rings. When they got closer, Ruby could see that the rings had spokes in them, like a bicycle tire, only there was no rubber around the outside of the rings. On the side of the arbor that faced away from the road, there was an opening, and inside, paving stones had been set in a circle. Paige ducked inside and sat cross-legged on one of the stones. Ruby joined her.

**This is what I was talking about earlier,** Paige signed. **Duncan saw a smaller version of this online, and George helped him build it. It's just a bunch of old bike rims people had dumped, out around the back of our property here. They used cable ties to hold it all together, and we're going to plant some honeysuckle that will grow up around it.**

"Oh, my gosh, that's going to smell amazing!" Ruby gushed. "We need to hang out here when it's in bloom!"

Paige ducked her head to hide her nervous expression. **That would be nice,** she signed, hoping that Ruby would still feel that way after she knew.

* * *

><p>The queen bore twin girls, and died during the difficult birth. Lamia had no difficulties with her own twins – boys, of course. She smiled up at her husband, but his return smile looked distinctly odd to her. He moved forward quickly, too quickly for her to see the flash of the enchanted obsidian dagger. Her eyes and mouth opened wide in a gasp of surprise.<p>

"I must have your essence for my potion, o wife," Merikh said softly. "You understand." He had no doubt that his wife would recognize her importance to his plan.

She looked up at him. "This… is my doing." There was a hint of question in her voice.

"Yes, Lamia," he replied. "You have shaped me into the ifrit I now am."

Her voice was weaker now. "Then I… have created… a monster." She smiled, clearly proud of her work.

"Oh, yes, my wife," Merikh said. "You most assuredly have." His answering smile was both triumphant and a touch tender as he watched her die. The two newborns regarded the scene with a seriousness and maturity not found in human infants. In only a few hours, they would able to care for themselves; young ifrits grew quickly.

Merikh set about collecting his wife's essence for his potion. The king's oldest daughter was already old enough to begin the process. For that matter, the second-born might be ready, as well.

* * *

><p>Looking both stunned and horrified, Ruby said, "Eww, that's gross! I mean, I guess I can kind of understand making the deal to save your brothers, although that's still pretty gross, but how could you let him touch you after the Curse? Especially since you knew who he was all along!" She shuddered.<p>

**Like I said, it was lust**, Paige signed. **And he's become a good friend now,** she added, with an almost warning look in her eyes.

But either Ruby didn't notice the look, or she ignored it. "That man is evil, and evil people don't have friends, just lackeys and suckers that they use and abuse. You need to get away from him, Paige. You know he's just going to toss you aside when he's done with you, right?"

Paige licked her lips. **He's my friend, and he cares about me. I know that's hard for you to believe, but I swear to you, there's still good in him.**

Ruby snorted derisively. "Yeah, right! I think those pregnancy hormones are affecting your judgment." She shuddered again. "I still can't believe you let him touch you. It makes me want to puke!"

Gritting her teeth, Paige signed, **I'm not going sit here and listen to you talk about him that way.**

Ruby's jaw dropped, and her eyes were open wide in surprise. "Are you seriously going to choose _him_ over _me_?"

**It's not a matter of choosing. If he started bashing you, I'd tell him to stop, too.** Paige winced inwardly. She had been afraid Ruby wouldn't take it well. **And your friend Ashley can't stand me, and to be honest, I'm not so fond of her, either, but you're still friends with both of us. I'm not asking you to hang out with Mr. Gold, or to like him. I'm just asking you to respect my friendship with him. And that means not trash-talking him when I'm around.**

Ruby stood up, swallowing hard. Her jaw was set in angry lines.

**Ruby, please,** Paige signed.

The look in Paige's eyes made Ruby falter for a moment, but she steeled herself and stalked out of the domed arbor without a word. She never looked back as she crossed the drive and got into her car.

Paige put her head in her hands, not wanting to watch Ruby drive away.

* * *

><p>Thirteen-year-old Genevieve was curled up in a ball on her bed, trying not to cry too loud. Her father's kingdom was tiny, and so was the palace. Even though she was the oldest, she had to share a bedroom suite with all of her sisters, with the exception of the newborn twins. It was a rather large suite of rooms, though, with plenty of room for twelve beds in the bedroom. Because once the twins were old enough to leave the nursery, they would sleep in here as well.<p>

Genevieve wondered if she would be able to forgive the twins by then. Right now, she hated them, because her mother had died to bring them into this world. Even though a part of her knew better, she blamed her newborn sisters.

But she had nine other sisters in the room with her, and she had spent over an hour comforting them, getting them to sleep. Now, Genevieve was the only one awake, and she could finally give vent to her own grief.

She heard a noise from the foot of her bed, but when she looked, no one was there. Then a boy's head appeared, as if he were rising out of the floor! Genevieve jumped out of bed. A trap-door had opened, revealing a staircase stretching way down into the ground. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, but just as she gathered herself to demand his name and business, the boy interrupted her.

"Don't speak," he said quietly. "You'll waken them." Even though he was keeping his voice soft, the young princess liked the way he talked. He sounded more mature than his years, which was quite the opposite from every other boy her age. They all acted childish and young. His light brown hair was long enough to fall into his eyes, and he seemed to have an endearing habit of tossing his head slightly to rearrange his hair. He offered her a golden goblet of wine. "For you," he said softly.

Genevieve took the goblet and sipped. She almost choked – she had only ever had wine that had been well watered down, and this stuff was potent! But she knew that some people drank a lot of wine to forget their pain, and it didn't actually taste bad. She just hadn't expected it to be so strong. So she took another sip, and another. She was surprised by how quickly she got used to it.

The boy smiled. "I'll use a charm to keep your sisters asleep," he murmured. But just before the charm was activated, the oldest of Genevieve's little sisters, who was not quite twelve, woke up. The other eight girls were caught in the spell, and would not waken for anything until the charm was released, or wore off.

"Where did you come from?" Louise asked the boy. "Who are you?" Before he could answer, she rounded on her older sister. "Genevieve, why did you let a strange boy into our bedroom? What are you drinking?"

"Nothing," Genevieve protested, pulling the cup away so quickly that she almost spilled her wine. "And I didn't, he came in by himself. So there."

The boy stepped in to try to calm the situation. "I am Anyanak, son of Merikh," he said. "My brothers and I live Underground, with our father." The capital was obvious in his voice. Sadness touched his features, but neither girl noticed that it was a shallow pretense of emotion. "We just lost our mother, as well. That is why I came to see you. My father has a beautiful ballroom, where we can feast and dance our sorrows away. It would have to be our secret, though," he cautioned.

Genevieve glanced at Louise. Anyanak had come to her; she didn't want to have to share with her sister.

But the boy snapped his fingers. He looked at Genevieve and said, "I have as many brothers as you have sisters, and I've summoned my next-eldest brother." Turning to Louise, he told her, "He'll bring you some wine, and then we can go."

"Wine?" Louise said incredulously. "Wine? We're too young for wine!" She looked suspiciously at the goblet her sister was drinking from. "I'll tell father!"

"You'd better not," Genevieve retorted, wiping her lips with the back of her hand and preparing for an argument.

"If you wish to run and tell tales on us," Anyanak interrupted softly, "then you cannot come with us. Not ever."

Louise eyed her sister and the strange boy. She was torn between a desire to make her father put a stop to this and an equally strong desire to be included. But before she could make up her mind, another boy, a little younger than the first, emerged from the trap door. He handed Louise a golden goblet of her own, saying, "I am Abbadon." He seemed almost shy, glancing at Louise and glancing away. She swallowed hard, then took a sip from the goblet simply to wet her throat, forgetting it held wine. She coughed just as much as her sister had.

"You should get dressed," Anyanak said. "Unless you plan on dancing in your nightshifts?"

Both girls blushed a little and giggled, turning toward the dressing room.

"Take your wine – go ahead and finish it," Anyanak said. "Father has plenty more in the Underground. We shall wait here."

As the girls disappeared, giggling and discussing which of their dresses they should wear, the two seemingly-human boys exchanged a knowing, satisfied smirk.

* * *

><p>Paige stared at the pawnshop's front door for several long moments. The sign had been flipped to "open," so Gold would be there, but what if Belle was, too? For the first time, Paige wondered how much Mr. Gold had told her. She pressed her hands to her stomach, not sure if she was feeling nervous butterflies, or if her unborn daughter was writhing more than usual.<p>

When she finally worked up the courage to go in, she was relieved to see only Mr. Gold. He was off to one side, winding up an old mantle clock. But it must have been broken, because it didn't start ticking again.

"Can I help you, Paige?" he asked, not turning from the clock until he had closed the little glass door over the motionless hands.

Once he was looking at her, Paige signed, **I have some questions. About… my brothers.**

"If you want to know where they're at dove, I can't tell you much. They seem to be here in Storybrooke, but without something of theirs I can use to make a finding spell, I can't tell you anything more than that." He frowned thoughtfully. The way Paige's face fell made him wish there was something more he could do, but it seemed that she would have to find them on her own.

**That's okay,** she signed, looking sad. **But I have other questions as well.**

"Ask away, dove," he said softly.

**The nettles, and the fibers, and all that spinning and knitting – will it still work if someone helps me with that?** Jane Blue had asked, offering not only her own services, but Alexa's as well. But Paige couldn't accept without making sure.

"I'm afraid not. Were it not for my bargain with your father, he could, perhaps, help, but it _must_ be family. Besides, since you were practically on the spot when the spell was put on them, you are, by far, the best choice for this." He smirked. Did she think it would be that easy?

But Paige just nodded. She had rather expected that would be the case. **I'm not very good at knitting. Would it be alright to have someone teach me? As long as that person doesn't do any of the actual work on the sweaters? **She wasn't sure if Granny would still be willing to teach her, since Ruby seemed to hate Paige now, but Jane would probably know how to knit.

Gold put a hand to his chin, thinking. "One moment," he said. He disappeared into the back room, but returned quickly, carrying a small, silk-covered box. Paige had never seen it before, but there was something almost creepy about it. She hoped she didn't have to find out what was in there. But Mr. Gold just passed his hand over the box, a slight hint of purple mist appearing briefly between his hand and the box. "As long as the person instructing you is doing it out of love, and as long as that person does not touch your work at any stage, that will not endanger the counter-spell."

Paige gave a nearly-silent sigh of relief. **Thank you. And I hope this will suffice for payment.** She blushed at Gold's quirked eyebrow, but pulled a glass bottle out of the bag she'd carried in. Handing him the bottle, she signed, **I know you like the brandy my kingdom makes,** **but I wasn't sure if Belle likes brandy or not, so I brought a bottle of our wine, as well.** She pulled a second bottle out of her bag and handed that to him, as well. **I know it's not as much as I gave you before, but… well, I hope it's enough.**

After a long moment of watching Paige squirm, Gold said, "Yes, Paige, I think this will do quite nicely." He turned, and Paige saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. The pretty brunette she had seen outside of Gold's house just after the Curse was broken stepped out from behind the curtain.

She seemed startled to see Paige there. "Who's this, Rumple?" she asked.

"Ah, Belle," he said. "This is Paige. Before the Curse was broken, she… worked for me. Cleaning this place up."

"Oh, hello," Belle said, smiling. "I've, uh, actually been taking care of cleaning around here, but if you want your job back, I'm sure we could work something out."

Paige swallowed. This girl was so sweet and genuine – and the way Gold looked at Belle made Paige want to cry. But instead, she smiled at Belle and signed to Gold.

"She actually reconnected with some people from her kingdom recently, and they grow the blueberries for which her kingdom was famous. She's going to start selling some of the same products that sustained her kingdom in the Enchanted Forest," he translated.

"Oh, like the wine?" Belle's face lit up.

"Yes," Gold answered. "As a matter of fact, she just brought me a complimentary bottle of it." He showed the bottle to Belle.

Belle couldn't stop smiling. "By any chance, are you, um…" She thought for a moment, trying to recall a name she had heard only once. "Eliza?"

"That was her name in the world we left behind," Gold confirmed. "Here in Storybrooke, she's also known as Paige Cygnus." Then he blinked. "But how did you know of her?"

"There was a young man I met, after… after the wraith. His name was… Mike?"

Paige nodded, but before she could sign, Mr. Gold explained that Mike was his Curse name and told Belle that Andrew had been his real name.

**Mike told me he met Belle. He said… during their talk, she decided to give you another chance after you gave in to your hate. **Paige looked at Gold hesitantly, not sure how he would take this news.

After a moment, Gold quietly translated for Belle, then asked, "Is that true?"

Belle glanced away, then met his eyes. "It is. He told me how his girlfriend had been with another man, and I told him how you had lied to me. And that's when I realized that I couldn't just give up on you, no matter how hard it might be to have to watch you make wrong choices."

Clearing his throat, Gold said, "Well, it seems I owe young Michael a debt, then."

"Me, too," Belle said, turning to Paige. "When you see him again, will you thank him, for both of us?"

The mute young woman nodded, but looked sad, so Gold explained how Mike was still distancing himself from Paige.

Belle expressed her sympathy, and her hopes that Mike would come to his senses, and Paige left. She was glad to see how perfect Belle was for Gold, but it made her sad to think that her own true love might be lost to her forever.

* * *

><p>Watching Paige leave, Gold wondered just how much young Michael had told Belle. He rather didn't think Belle would have been so friendly to Paige if she knew the whole truth, but he could be wrong about that. "Belle," he said guardedly.<p>

"What is it, Rumple?" she asked, looking up at him. She had been about to open the bottle of wine, but his tone made her stop.

"The, ah, young woman I told you about. The one I slept with?" When Belle nodded, a hint of jealousy on her face, Gold continued. "I should have told you before, but you see, she's… she's pregnant."

"I'm assuming it's _your_ child?" Belle asked.

"Yes," he replied simply.

Belle moved closer and put her hands on his waist. "You're going to be a father, again," she said softly, thinking of his confession about his son Baelfire. He nodded, and she said, "What… what will that entail?"

"I'm not going to marry her or anything like that," he said swiftly. "I will see to it that the child and her mother never want for anything, if the young woman allows it, and I hope to be able to see the child on a fairly regular basis, but I'm more than content to be on the sidelines. Besides, she wants to raise the child with her true love." Gold wanted to tell Belle that it was Paige who was carrying his child, but that flash of jealousy made it clear that Michael hadn't told her everything. He was afraid Belle might not be able to enjoy the wine Paige had brought if the truth came out. He knew he would have to confess eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her just now.

Belle cleared her throat. "I guess I'll have to meet her someday, won't I?"

Gold blinked. She was making this really hard on him. "It's… rather complicated, Belle," he said, not wanting to lie, but too afraid to tell her the truth.

"Well," Belle said, sighing, "I'm sure we can work something out." After a moment, she couldn't help herself. "She's not going to… come along and expect you to… _be_ with her again, is she?"

"Oh, no, sweetheart," he replied soothingly. Belle gave a sigh of relief and hugged him tightly, which made her miss the hint of sadness in his eyes as he added, "That won't be an issue."

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Tallahassee."

Lamia is the name of a Greek mythological spirit. She is evil, abducting and devouring children. The name means "large shark" in Greek, "vampire" in Latin, and "fiend" in Arabic.

Merikh is a variant of "Mirrikh," the Arabic and Persian name for the planet Mars. The name may mean "death, slaughter." The planet Mars is associated with the Babylonian deity of fire, war, and destruction; in ancient China, Mars represented bane, grief, war, and murder. In Roman mythology, Mars is considered to have a potential for great savagery, and he may even have originated as a god of the wild.

Merikh refers to those who banished him as "sons of ice." I chose this as an insult among ifrits because they are creatures of fire.

Hope you enjoyed, and please review! Reviews can make things happen...

For instance, after the 15th chapter, titled "Chapter 14" (since the 1st chapter on here is not an actual chapter but a stating of dislaimers and personal theories), Nelle07 left a review stating

"I would love to see Paige's reaction if she knew he had her underwear..."

Before this review, it was just something that I thought would be funny, but it was only going to be a one-time thing. But given Nelle07's curiosity, I just HAD to do it again, and have Paige catch him at it... which later led to him getting sneakier about it.

Also, after the 21st chapter ("Chapter 20"), Awesome Fat Kitty said

"...And Mr. Gold was just like "FUCK YEAH, PANCAKES!" It was great. Made me grin like the Cheshire Cat..."

This review was responsible for the scene in the following chapter, wherein we see Paige bringing Gold pancakes in bed. Because I originally had no intention of showing that happen...

So please, tell me what you loved. Tell me what amused you. Tell me what you're curious about. Please, review!


	28. S2 Ch7 - A Matter Of Honor

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's show, characters, or plotlines, just those of my own devising.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, two servants are rescued from a cruel master. Shozo and Yasuko are shocked to be given a house in the woods, but they are truly dumbfounded when their rescuers, who seem to be Royalist messengers, turn into a pair of mandarin ducks and fly away. They realize that the ducks are merely returning the favor; Yasuko gave the drake his freedom and allowed him to return to his mate, partly because she knew Shozo wished the drake could be free. So the mandarin ducks found a way to free Shozo and Yasuko so that they can be together.

~In Storybrooke, the two servants are working in the town's Chinese restaurant. They are known in this world as Takeshi and Megumi Hiyashi. The couple that owns the business are Hisashi and Kame Oshidori, and were the mandarin ducks in the world that was. The Oshidoris apologize to the Hiyashis for their ill-treatment of the couple, and reveal it has been so long since they were fully human that they can no longer remember their true names. They explain that their human bodies died, but their souls lived on in the bodies of mandarin ducks, so that they could help others who were being oppressed. Kame claims it was worth the price, but the hint of pain in her voice implies that she does not truly believe that. The Oshidoris do not know why they were brought to Storybrooke as humans – they have always owed payment for assuming their human forms, but they are not sure they can even take on their duck forms here in this world…

* * *

><p>The overseer paced in front of the line of a dozen new slaves. "You will forget your name. Whoever you were before you came here, that person is dead. Tomorrow you will be brought in front of your Master, and he will name you as he deems fit. Also, some of you will be selected for punishment."<p>

"But why?" a woman protested. "If we have done nothing wrong –"

Cracking his whip in the air, a scant few inches in front of the woman's face, the overseer barked, "Because he is your Master! He can and _will_ punish whichever slave he chooses, and for any infraction. If he decides you aren't clean enough, or if he believes you have looked upon him in a too-familiar manner, or simply because he wishes to see you punished." At first he was addressing the entire group of new slaves, but now he focused on the woman who had spoken. "That insolent tongue of yours will throw you under the whip often if you do not tame it, slave!"

The woman, who was approaching her middle years, flinched again. The man next to her brushed her hand with his fingertips. He wanted to comfort her more openly, but was afraid to do so.

The overseer returned to his lecture, listing off the master's rules and the likely punishments for breaking them. It seemed the whip figured prominently in the master's preferred punishments. The woman who had protested shivered. She had been a spinster living alone before the slavers came and raided her tiny village. She had still hoped to find a husband and have a child or two, but her childbearing years would be over all too soon, and now that she had been sold into slavery, she felt that her dreams were gone.

The man next to her leaned a little closer, so that his arm was touching hers as they stood side by side. She licked her lips and leaned against him for a moment, hoping that he would understand that she appreciated his gesture. But before the overseer could notice, she shifted her weight back so that her arm barely brushed against the man's arm.

After the overseer was finished, an elderly slave handed out clothing to replace the coarse shirts and trousers worn by slaves that were for sale. This new clothing was hardly soft, but in comparison to the rough sack-cloth of the block, it was a relief to their skin. They were each put into separate slave houses, where they could be watched over by slaves who had been there longer. The shackles were removed only from their hands; their feet were chained to a ring in the corner of the single room inside each house.

* * *

><p>Paige and Dr. Horne walked out of Dr. Solano's office. The visit had gone well; everything seemed to be progressing as it should except for one thing. Her weight gain was still a little lower then the doctor had expected, but he believed that to be a result of the exercise class she was taking. She went to the class at least twice a week, usually three times. She had been surprised to discover that the woman who taught the class, Vicki, was actually Dr. Solano's wife.<p>

Horne had given Solano the ability to understand sign language. The OB/GYN had seemed pleased, even knowing that the knowledge would be less than perfect. Now Paige could go see him by herself without having to resort to writing notes. She had decided that she would ask Horne to give the ability to Archie as well.

"Shall we be having lunch at Granny's?" Horne asked.

**Actually,** Paige signed, **I bought a spaghetti squash the other day, and I thought I could make us some spaghetti with it. I already prepped it; all that's left is to actually cook the squash and make the sauce, which I was kind of planning on cheating and just adding spices to jarred sauce...**

"Were you planning to be putting any meat into this spaghetti?" Horne asked, glancing at Paige out of the corner of his eye.

**I already have the chicken cooked, it just needs to be heated up with the rest of it,** she replied. Then she noticed the look on Horne's face. **What, did you think I would forget? I've known you all my life, good Doctor, and I have cooked for you before. I know that fauns only eat poultry, and no other form of meat.**

"Be you trying to sound wise, Princess?" he asked, but his tone was teasing, not formal. "That may be beyond your years, think you not so?"

Paige tried to suppress a smirk. **Be you taking the goat again, good Doctor? Is that not somewhat… beneath you?**

Horne laughed. "Ah, Paige, you are very much being a breath of fresh air, as always!" He paused for a moment, then said, "Let us be tasting of this strange vegetable that is taking the place of good pasta. Very curious, it is, the things of this world that were being little known of, or perhaps even existing not in our own world."

* * *

><p>The spaghetti had turned out well. The squash had a slight crunch to it, almost like an al dente pasta, and Paige wasn't sure if it was simply the way she had prepared it, or if that was the natural texture of spaghetti squash, but either way, she liked it.<p>

After eating, though, she had told Dr. Horne the truth concerning her pregnancy. She could tell he was shocked, but he hadn't said anything yet. **Doctor?** she signed.

"Yes, Paige, it is… difficult to be taking in this revelation you have made to me. I must be admitting that I now find your uncertainty about that law much less… confusing." Horne's eyes seemed to be looking at something only he could see. He sighed. "Again am I finding myself in the unfortunate positioning as Royal Advisor," he said softly, frowning.

**Unfortunate?**

"Indeed, Princess," he replied. "A Royal Advisor must often be giving his queen advice, the like of which she is wanting to not hear."

Paige was a little surprised that he had addressed her as Princess. Unless he said it in joking manner, like he had earlier, it usually meant that he was feeling awkward and uncomfortable. She wondered why he might be feeling that way now, but she did not raise her hands to sign. She wanted to let him tell her whatever it was in his own time.

The silence stretched out. Just when Paige was beginning to think she might need to intervene, to remind him that she was still waiting for his words, he spoke again. "Please, be understanding of the fact that I speak only as to political concerns, and not the feelings of the heart. But… it was occurring to me that it might, perhaps, be best if you are to be _not_ marrying until the child is born."

**Best? **Paige signed, before placing her hands over her stomach protectively.

"I am, truly, in very much awareness of the anguish this choice must be having for you," Horne said hurriedly, wilting a bit at Paige's glare. "But how think you your subjects would feel, knowing as how they must eventually be ruled by the progeny of the Dark One?"

Paige looked away, swallowing hard. She wanted to point out that no one need know, but she knew she could never live with that. And Dr. Horne certainly knew her well enough to understand that, as well.

**But… if I make that choice now, if I deem her unworthy to rule simply because of who sired her, am I not going against everything my kingdom stands for? **Paige hadn't thought of it from a political standpoint before, but Horne's mention of politics had gotten her to thinking. However, she could admit, if only to herself, that she had only thought of this because part of her couldn't stand the thought of condemning her daughter to a life of bitterness, of wondering why she wasn't good enough. **My kingdom was founded on the principle that everyone, man or woman, could achieve anything, so long as they earn it. Can I denounce my firstborn for her parentage? Can I dare to decide that she will not be good enough to rule my kingdom? More than that, I don't like the implication that makes about Mr. Gold. No matter what you think, I **_**know**_** there's still good in him. If I choose to deny my daughter the throne, it implies that I think Rumpelstiltskin's child cannot possibly be worthy, and I refuse to believe that. Rumpelstiltskin is like any other man, capable of good or of evil. Just because he chooses wrong so often, that should not condemn him, and it especially should not condemn his child.**

Horne smiled gently at Paige. "Ah, sweet girl, you make a muchly good point. But though it is being couched in political terms, this has all the seeming of a sentiment that is coming from your heart, Eliza. Not from your head."

**This very law came from a man's heart, did it not?** Paige drew herself up, as if readying for a fight. **A king who could not stand the thought of his daughter not being part of a loving family? A king who used political concerns to give his daughter the life he felt she deserved?**

"That was being not _quite_ the same situation, Paige," Horne answered, still smiling gently. "But I am finding your arguments compelling. I still would be counseling that you not marry before the child be born, but as always, that decision is up to my Queen."

Paige went pale. **I am **_**not**_** Queen! Not yet. Father still lives, and though I suppose I'm technically in charge while he's in his… coma, I cannot be Queen unless he… formally abdicates or… or… **She couldn't finish that thought.

"No, you are not being Queen as yet," he said hurriedly. "I was not meaning to say that you should usurp your father's throne. I merely am wishing you to realize that you must be thinking like a queen right now, for this decision could perhaps be the one of most importance you will be making at this part of your life." After a thoughtful pause, Horne added softly, as if speaking to himself, "I cannot help but to wonder if I could have been preventing this."

**What you mean, Doctor?**

Startled, Horne met Paige's eyes. "Your masquerade, of course. Had I but made the Dark One leave, or perhaps been making your father aware of his presence, this may all have been… not needing to happen."

**You… knew who he was? Did you… see him before he found me on the dance floor?** Paige was shocked to think that Horne had known all along.

"I am a faun, Princess," Horne said. "How could I be not knowing? And yes, I did notice him before he was approaching you. Bah! It was the way he did dance with you. Had I but stopped him beforehand… I am having hope that you will accept my deepest apologies, Princess. You are a woman who cannot give her body without also giving of her heart, and had I been nipping this whole thing before it budded, your body would never have been given to this foul man, and thus your heart would be having no need to follow!"

**Stop this. **Paige stood and frowned down at the doctor. **None of this is your fault. No matter **_**what**_** happened at my masquerade, Father would still have begged Rumpelstiltskin for help, and I would still bear his child as a result of the price I agreed to pay. And nothing here in Storybrooke would have changed, either. I would still have discovered the good in Mr. Gold. I would still have grown to care for him. He is my friend, and nothing you could have done would have stopped it from happening.**

"Are you not seeing, Princess? This supposed friendship, it is only because of your… _physical_ relationship with him." Horne blinked up at Paige nervously, but he was determined to make her understand, even if it meant bearing the full force of her nearly legendary temper.

But though his words angered Paige, she remained calm. **You're wrong. If this friendship were not real, I would not give up my own pleasure for the sake of his happiness. And he would not be willing to do the same for me. And he **_**is**_**. Or would have been, had the circumstances been different. He told me so. If Mike had come to his senses before Belle, Mr. Gold would have been happy for me, and would not have expected any further sexual relations with me. **She paused for a moment, watching Horne's face as her words sank in. She added, **You weren't there. You didn't see the relief on his face when he realized that I was **_**truly**_** happy for him when Belle agreed to give him another chance. Relief, because he was afraid I didn't genuinely care for him as a friend.**

Horne stared deep into Paige's eyes, searching for the truth. What he found surprised him. "Indeed, Princess, I am being very much wrong. I can see it in your eyes – you are truly, muchly caring for this man, but not in the romantic way. I would like to be apologizing for the making of such assumptions."

Smiling, Paige signed, **There's no need to apologize, good Doctor, as long as you understand. I have to admit, it must be… difficult, for someone who hasn't had the opportunity to see the good in him.** She sat down again, and Horne pulled her into a hug. He didn't know what else to say, but he wanted her to know that he would continue to be there for her.

But then he did think of something to say. Something Paige still wouldn't want to hear. "Still and yet, it is being most likely best for your kingdom if this daughter is being not afforded the opportunity to rule. As you were just saying, it is being muchly difficult to believe in a man like Gold without seeing what you have been seeing, and your subjects may choose to _not_ follow his child. I only am wishing to warn you, Princess. It is being not an easy thing to hear, I know, but you should be taking it into consideration for the making of this so-difficult choice."

Paige knew he was right. She _had_ to consider her people when she made this decision. But how could she possibly know how they would feel about it?

* * *

><p>The master stopped in front of the middle-aged man who had comforted the woman the previous evening. "Getting a bit long in the tooth, this one," he mused. His retainers chuckled, because they knew it was expected of them. "His skin is growing thin, like rice paper. In fact, that shall be his name, Rice Paper." The woman looked over at the man; he wasn't <em>that<em> old! His skin was no longer as supple as a youth's, but it wasn't as thin as the master made it out to be. It only confirmed her suspicions that this master was cruel.

There was another slave between the man and herself today, a pretty young girl. "Ah," the master said, turning her face this way and that by the two fingers he placed on her chin. "A pretty little thing." He looked down, assessing her breasts. They were somewhat small, but perky. She couldn't have been much more than twenty. "I shall call you Eunice." He rubbed a lock of her hair between two fingers to feel the texture.

The woman barely kept her face straight. Eunice was a name that had derived from a muse of olden times, a muse known as the "giver of pleasure." Granted, it hadn't been meant as physical pleasure, but the master was certainly making a pun with the girl's name. The woman had no doubt that this poor girl would give the master much pleasure before he was done with her. As the master stepped before her, she began to hope that he would find her too old for his tastes. Who knew what unpleasant diseases this man might have? Morality was not the only reason that promiscuity was frowned upon by so many.

"You disapprove," the master remarked softly. "She is my slave, to do with as I will. And I have marked your distaste. I know, so soon, how best to punish you should you step too far out of line. I prefer them younger and prettier, but it would not be a hardship to force you to my bed. Indeed, sometimes it is… more _amusing_ to break the ones that fight it." He chuckled as the woman swallowed hard, trying to mask her fear. He raised his voice so everyone else could hear. "You shall be called Milfoil, for that herb is bitter, but good for you. As your ultimate punishment will be when comes the time."

She wanted to cry, to flee, but she knew it would do her no good. She wanted to scream out her real name, but that would only bring punishment. The master went on and named the rest of his new slaves. When he finished, his overseer stepped forward.

"These are your names now, and if you so much as _think_ of your former name, you _will_ be punished." The overseer cracked his whip for emphasis. "There is nothing to go back to. The past no longer exists. You are here, and you belong to your Master! There is nothing else."

His words carried a finality that frightened Milfoil terribly. She knew that this slave owner was a man who would order slaves punished simply because he could. Because he held that power. And she knew that she had unintentionally marked herself out for frequent punishment. She would have to do her best to become a model slave, or that ultimate punishment, that rape the master had threatened, would come all too soon.

And as she had suspected, she was one of those selected for the arbitrary punishment the overseer had spoken of the previous evening. It made her sick to her stomach to realize that she felt _fortunate_ that her current punishment was merely a whipping.

* * *

><p>A few days after she confessed to Dr. Horne, Paige decided to tell the Blue family who had fathered her child. Horne had tried to talk her out of it. Now Paige almost wished that she had listened. They very decidedly did <em>not<em> like the idea of being ruled by Rumpelstiltskin's child. True, they had taken the news itself better than some, but once Paige had brought up the fact that this child would be her firstborn, and thus a Crown Princess, they had objected strongly. They understood why Paige had made the deal, even knowing she would get pregnant, but they didn't like that she had let him continue to "defile" her, as they saw it, here in Storybrooke. And they didn't believe that there was good in him.

**Good Doctor,** she signed, turning her back on the half-unfriendly, half-guilty eyes of the Blues. They didn't like judging her so harshly, but they felt very strongly about all this. **Good Doctor, please. Take me home.**

"Of course, sweet girl," he said gently.

* * *

><p>All the way back into town, Horne held his tongue. But when Paige tapped his arm and made a stopping motion, he pulled the car over. They were near the sheriff's station.<p>

When Horne turned to face her, Paige signed, **Just let me out here. I want to walk a bit.** She wasn't sure why she felt the urge, but she definitely didn't want to sit alone at her house all day. It wasn't yet lunchtime.

"Firstly, Paige, I am wishing to say that I was trying to warn you. It was being, perhaps, too soon to tell them all of it. If you had but waited to point out that the Dark One's child would take the throne, given them the time they are needing to process the simple fact that you will be bearing his child into this world, they may have taken things a bit less emotionally."

**No,** Paige signed. **This was actually probably best. It was a real, honest reaction. We don't have time to wait around for people to get used to the idea before we make sure they realize that she would be in a position to rule them. I… I still don't know if I can hurt her this way, but… I have to take my peoples' concerns into consideration. You were right, Doctor. And it's better, much better, to really **_**know**_** how they feel, instead of just making assumptions.**

"You are showing very much wisdom, sweet girl," Horne said, his face sad. "But my heart, he is breaking at the thought of your pain."

Paige smiled gratefully at Horne. **Thank you, but it **_**is**_** mine**_**.**_** I alone must bear this burden; you have done everything that was needed. Now it all comes down to me. As you said, only I can make this choice. But I need to think, to decide.** She unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. Then she turned back to Horne. **If you go back there today, thank them for me. For… for being honest with me, even though it hurts.**

"I will be passing along your gratitude, Princess. Please, should you be needing me, for any reason, send me a message, and there I will be. No matter when, Paige. Even in the depths of night's darkness, I will gladly be rushing to your side, even if all you are needing is a companion full of silence who is comforting you simply by being in the same room."

Leaning over the central console awkwardly because of her growing belly, Paige hugged Dr. Horne. When she pulled back, she signed, **Thank you. I see now why Father once told me that a faun is the truest of friends.**

Tears pricked Horne's eyes as Paige got out of the car and walked down the street. He watched for a moment, then put the car in gear again. While he was back in town, he might as well check on things at Greensmountain Heights before heading back to the Blueberry Farm.

* * *

><p>Gold smirked at Spencer. "What could you possibly have that I want?" he asked.<p>

"I don't have much," Spencer answered evasively. "But if this works out, I'll be in charge around here. I'm sure David and his supposed scruples aren't always… aligned with the interests of a man like you. When I'm in charge, you'll be able to deal with someone much more ruthless than he could ever be. Isn't that good enough?"

"I see. But should this… _not_ work out, should the shepherd humiliate you _again_, what, then, is in it for me?" Gold watched Spencer's face shrewdly.

"This," Spencer said, almost reluctantly, pulling out a vial. "It is all that remains of the poison that was used against my wife."

"Ah, yes," Gold chuckled. "The potion that kept you from a child of your own. The potion that, ah, _failed_ to bring the same fate to young Charming and Snow. A potion like that is a dime a dozen, as they say in this world. What need could I possibly have of something so… common?"

"It's not just the poison," Spencer said. "I had this vial enchanted to remove the taste of the poison so that I could put it into plain water. It will do that for _all_ potions, not just the poison that's in here now. People are always suspicious of wine from the enemy, but everyone knows that you cannot hide poison in water. Unless, of course, you have this."

Gold lifted an eyebrow, eyeing the vial interestedly. He and David had exchanged a non-interference guarantee, but with his ability to see the future, he knew that Spencer would not succeed in taking over Storybrooke. He also knew that nothing David could do from here in this world would bring Mary Margaret and Emma back – they could only return if they found their own way. Gold knew he would help somehow, but he couldn't see the specifics just yet. So making this deal would not interfere with David in the slightest, and that vial _was_ tempting. One never knew when one might need such a thing, and though he was sure he could eventually make one himself, this would save him the trouble.

"Very well, but you will leave that vial in my keeping. Ifyou succeed, I shall return it to you." Gold smirked deviously.

"Oh, no, Gold," Spencer replied. "I don't trust you that much."

"For one thing, dearie, you have no reason to _dis_trust me thus. Have I ever broken a deal with you? No, of course not," he said dismissively. Then he sneered at Spencer. "Also, the girl _will_ come looking for this, and quite soon, I should imagine. Unless you want her to find out that I _had_ her hood and, ah… sold it, so to speak, you'll leave that vial in my care. Because _if_ you do fail, you may well end up in jail, and I prefer not to make house calls. Especially not to collect what belongs to me."

Spencer gritted his teeth. "Very well," he said tersely. Gold handed over the red hood, and Spencer grudgingly gave him the vial.

"As always," Gold taunted, "it's a pleasure doing business with you!"

* * *

><p>Paige saw a man rush out of Gold's shop. He looked around almost guiltily as he opened the trunk of his car. She caught a glimpse of something red but she couldn't tell what it was. It was probably something of his from the Enchanted Forest, but she wondered why he was acting so furtive.<p>

She was pretty sure he was the man who was going to prosecute Mary Margaret, back when everyone thought Kathryn Nolan was dead. His name eluded her, though, and she felt disgruntled. It wasn't until she saw him leaving that she realized that part of her had thought of stopping by to see Gold, but now she just shook her head and kept walking.

As she passed the library, she noticed that it looked a little less abandoned than it had before. It looked like there were even lights on inside! Curious, she tried the door. It was unlocked, so she went in. The interior was looking much brighter and neater than an abandoned building might, but it was the lack of dust that convinced Paige. Someone was cleaning up around here, probably with the intent to open the library, but who could it be?

"Oh, I'm sorry," came an accented voice, "but we're not actually open yet." Belle poked her head around a bookshelf. "Oh, Paige!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know it was you." She smiled, almost nervously. She paused for a moment before adding, "I could always call Rumple, I'm sure he'd come over and translate, if you… needed anything."

Paige went up to the circulation counter and set her purse down, digging for the notebook and pen she kept in there. She wrote a note.

Belle read it and smiled. "Oh, that's okay. You can stay for a bit, if you'd like." She thought of something else. "By the way, that wine is just as good as I remember. Thank you so much for that!"

Blushing a bit, Paige wrote out a small confession. When Belle read it, she laughed a little.

"I, ah, kind of thought as much. People don't generally just bring gifts to the Dark One. But… if you don't mind my asking, what did you want from him?"

Paige wrote a longer note, explaining the swan spell her brothers suffered and how she had been asking for more information about breaking that spell. She wrote that she knew Gold didn't give information for free, so she'd brought brandy and wine, hoping that it would be a good enough payment for his answers.

"Well," Belle said after reading it, "I'm glad you decided to bring both. I've never been particularly fond of brandy. And I hope you can save your brothers. If there's anything I can do, just let me know, alright?"

Smiling sadly, Paige wrote again, thanking Belle, but telling her that no one could help, not really.

Belle smiled back. "Well, even if you just need a quiet place to sit and knit." She looked at Paige's stomach. "Or someone to watch the baby so you can get some work done. Whatever I can do." There was an awkward pause while they smiled uncertainly at each other. Paige was realizing that Belle didn't know what had happened between herself and Gold. She wasn't sure if she was grateful, or angry at Gold for not being completely honest with Belle. But her thoughts were interrupted when Belle asked, "So, do you, um, like books?"

Paige liked to read, but she generally didn't have much time for it, and she wrote that. She also wrote that she really liked poetry.

"Oh, have you read any Shakespeare? There's such beauty to the way he writes his sonnets – people just don't talk like that any more. Or write like that, either," she added, laughing.

Paige had read lots of different poets from this world, or at least, she had the Curse-memories of having read them, so she nodded. Then she wrote down the author and title of one of her favorite poems.

"Oh, I don't think I've read that one yet," Belle remarked, almost to herself. Seeming almost in a daze, she consulted the card catalogue and went off in search of that author. When she returned, she was paging through a book. "Here it is," she said triumphantly. "'The Lake Isle of Innisfree,' by William Butler Yeats." She pronounced it to rhyme with "eats," and Paige smiled, writing a short note. "Oh," Belle said. "Yeats!" This time, per Paige's instruction, she made it rhyme with "gates." She giggled. "Sorry!"

Paige just smiled. Then she wrote something else.

"Oh, sure," Belle said. She cleared her throat and started reading the poem aloud.

* * *

><p>Milfoil tried hard not look at Rice Paper. She hated that name for him, more than she hated the name their Master had given to her, but he wouldn't tell her his original name. She hadn't asked in a long time, but she almost wanted to – because she had realized that, in spending the last few years thinking of herself as Milfoil, she had actually forgotten her own name. It made her feel like she had truly lost herself, and she wondered if Rice Paper felt the same.<p>

Once their group had been on the master's property long enough that they were trusted not to run away at night, they had been allowed to live in whichever slave shack they chose. She and Rice Paper, along with Eunice and two others who had come from the block with them, had moved in with two elderly women. Seven people barely fit into the one-room hovel, but the two old women were having a hard time caring for themselves. Milfoil and the others had taken pity on them and intended to help them for the rest of their days. Also, the sheer number of people meant that Milfoil and Rice Paper would find it difficult to be alone together.

They wanted to, but the Master was very strict about slave marriages, or any similar relationships. If the Master or the Overseer found out about their feelings, Milfoil and Rice Paper would both be punished, and then separated. And Milfoil knew exactly what her punishment would be. She had avoided that ultimate punishment so far, but only by being as quick and thorough to carry out her given tasks as she could be.

Today, they had both been among those selected to serve at the Master's table. Rice Paper was to keep the diners' cups full of wine, and Milfoil's task was to bring around finger bowls and napkins between courses, so the master and his guests could clean their hands. Other servants were handling other duties, but all Milfoil could think of was Rice Paper. Sometimes, one of the guests motioned for more sake while Milfoil was either delivering or collecting the finger bowls, and she nearly quivered with the effort of ignoring him. She felt the weight of the Master's gaze often, and she knew that he was still waiting for her to slip up, so it was very important that tonight go perfectly.

But as she was collecting the very last of the finger bowls before dessert, disaster struck. The Master himself had motioned for more sake, but Milfoil didn't see it. She turned and nearly ran right into Rice Paper. He caught her arm with his free hand, steadying her, and though they tried, they couldn't seem to stop gazing into each other's eyes. When she finally bobbed a small curtsy and hurried away, she saw that it had only been a single, brief moment. Strange, it had felt so much longer.

She glanced back toward the table as she left the room. Her eyes sought Rice Paper immediately, but he was carefully attending to his duties. But the Master – he was watching Milfoil closely, with a triumphant look in his eye. Her heart sank. He knew, he had seen that look. She nearly dropped the tray she was using to carry those little bowls out to be washed. Running away never even crossed her mind. In the three and a half years she'd been here, not one slave had ever succeeded. The Overseer had been right – this was her life now, and it had just taken a turn for the worse.

* * *

><p>Hisashi sat on the bed with his knees drawn up and his arms resting across his knees. He was leaning forward to rest his cheek on his arms. The only thing he wore was the sheet draped across his legs.<p>

Having pulled up his knees had shifted the rest of the sheet, exposing Kame's bare legs from mid-thigh down. He was staring at her exposed back, though. She was lying on her stomach and he wasn't sure if she was awake. Hisashi thought fondly of the rather exhausting afternoon they'd had, but his expression remained serious.

When Kame stirred, he lifted his head and tenderly traced one of the many whip scars across her back. "Why did the master take against you so?" he asked, very softly. At first, he thought his wife was still asleep, but then he noticed how tense her body had gone at his words. She rolled onto her side, facing him. For a moment, the afternoon sun lit up her breasts, but she modestly pulled the sheet up, covering herself.

No, not out of modesty – out discomfort, or embarrassment. Hisashi felt his heart ache, but before he could apologize for asking, Kame answered him. "When… when he was naming us," she said, "I knew he was making a pun with poor Eunice's name. Because it derives from that muse, the bringer of pleasure?" She looked at Hisashi, and when she saw that he understood, she continued. "He could see in my face that I disapproved. He told me that she was his slave, to do with as he wished. And he knew. He knew right then how to punish me."

"I often wondered what hold he had on you," Hisashi said. "You're a fighter, Kame, I saw that the moment we met, and I couldn't understand why you gave in so easily. You might even have been able to escape, but knowing what the punishment would be if you failed – I can see why you would try to become a perfect slave." He couldn't hide the disgust in his voice at the thought of being a "perfect" slave.

After a long, uncomfortable moment, Kame changed the subject. "This has been nice, having time together. As humans." She blushed slightly, and Hisashi smiled a very male smile, knowing his wife meant the sex. But then she went on. "But this isn't right. What if this somehow violates the agreement we made? What if we have to go back to our normal human lifespans?"

"Would that be so bad?" he asked. "I could get used to all this. Couldn't you?"

"Yes, but… what of our mission? How can we save other oppressed innocents if we just grow old and die?" Kame had always been more passionate than Hisashi about saving others like themselves.

"But what will happen to the ducks if we remain human?" he asked. "Will that doom them to an early death? And if so, could you really do that to them?"

Kame swallowed hard. "No. You know I couldn't."

"So what do we do?"

"We go to the one man who can give us the information we seek," Kame replied. "We'll ask Mr. Gold."

"But… not today," Hisashi said hesitantly, almost making it a question.

"No, my dear one," Kame replied, smiling. "Tomorrow. Or maybe the next day." She blushed again. "I would like to have some more… time with you, first."

Hisashi smiled that masculine smile again. He knew that his wife was still referring to the sex.

* * *

><p>Paige sat in her living room, just staring at the skeins she had made. She now had a total of five completed skeins, and another bobbin nearly full on the spinning wheel. She should go down and finish that one, but she felt listless. What was the point? Surely this was already taking too long. She was nearly out of nettle fibers, and harvesting leaves from her plants downstairs would help, but it would still be a relatively small amount. This task was impossible.<p>

A few tears ran down her cheeks, and she wondered. Was this a pregnancy-induced mood swing, or was she just upset by the Blue family's reaction to the truth? Or perhaps she truly was feeling daunted by the task ahead of her.

Her doorbell rang, and she glanced at the clock. It was just after 7:30 in the evening – who could be at her door at this time of day? Swallowing, she hoped it was Mike. She could use a good hug right now.

But Ed Grove stood at her door. The young man had been a knight in her kingdom, and had also been charged with protecting Paige's other self. With an effort, she smiled at him, but he saw through her pretense. She gestured for him to come in.

"I want you to know that I'm sorry about what happened at the Farm today. Had I been there, I would have given those farmers a piece of my mind!"

**You grew up a fisherman yourself, Ed,** Paige signed. **You should understand better than anyone that no man or woman is better than any other simply because of their livelihood.**

"No, I know that," he replied, a touch impatiently. "I just meant… I know that I'm just as common as them. What I meant was that their opinion is not the only one out there. After the Blues told me, I went home and spoke to my brothers and sister, and they were shocked, of course, but they agree with me. We will follow you, Paige. If you wish Rumpelstiltskin's daughter to rule us, we'll accept her. So long as she proves herself worthy, the same as you did, and your father before you. If she is fit to rule, we will follow her. You are our rightful Queen. Or, well, you _will_ be, once your time comes." He shook his head, irritated that he couldn't seem to speak more clearly. "Anyway, Princess, the point is that I am your loyal subject, and I would do anything for you. Even… I mean, if your prince… if you need someone to… well, _you_ know." He blushed, realizing that this was not the most romantic way to tell her that he would gladly marry her if she wished it.

Paige swallowed hard and backed away just a little. **Thank you for your loyalty, Sir Elrick,** she signed, hoping he wouldn't see this as encouragement. **But I'm not ready to make a decision on this just yet. I have to decide not only what's best for my daughter, and for myself, but for my kingdom. I appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't even know for sure how Mike feels about it. He's still… deciding.**

"And if he takes too long, and you need to make _sure_ your daughter can rule, I will do whatever you need me to." Ed was short, so he had to look up a bit to stare into Paige's eyes.

**Yes, I'm sure you would, but we don't even know if that will be necessary,** Paige replied. But before she could think of a polite way to send Ed on his way, he spoke again.

"Anyway, I want to take you out to Granny's, Paige. After the day you've had, I'm sure a piece of pie will cheer you up. Although I wish it were the same as at that inn we stayed at on the way to the manor, with that crumbly stuff on top that you liked so much." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, you can't just sit around here moping all day."

With one of her hands being grasped, Paige couldn't readily answer him. But suddenly, she _did_ want to go out. Granny's pie sounded delicious right now, and maybe she would see Ruby out there. Maybe they could be friends again. And even though she didn't want to encourage Ed, part of her hoped Mike would see them leaving, and would maybe start to realize that he was not her only option for ensuring her daughter's ability to rule.

* * *

><p>The Master had accused Milfoil and Rice Paper of consummating their feelings, and no amount of denial on their part would change his mind. They were chained to opposite sides of the large chamber in the House of Punishment. Normally slaves were whipped outside, but if the weather were unpleasant, it was done here. This was also where slaves were kept, and often tormented, while awaiting their punishment.<p>

As usual, the Master's samurai warriors were to take turns standing watch over the prisoners. They were allowed to torment them, or permit others in for that purpose, but the Master had decreed that no one could take their pleasure of the two slaves. That, he said, would happen tomorrow, in front of everyone. He had declared that his samurais would take part in defiling the woman, or the man, if that was their preference. But Milfoil was to be defiled first, by as many men as the Master could arrange, and Rice Paper was to have a front-row seat. After their official punishment was done, the Master planned to put Milfoil and Rice Paper in the stocks, facing each other, right in the midst of the slave quarters, so that even the slaves could have a turn at them.

Milfoil was terrified, and the only thing that kept her from weeping was Rice Paper. He did not speak, knowing that it would only bring repercussion, but he stared into her eyes, willing her strength and courage. There had already been many taunts tonight, but she had remained strong. When they blocked her view of Rice Paper, she kept picturing his face, that confidence he was projecting to her.

When the Master's foremost samurai came on duty, he was carrying a wicker hamper. "What is that," asked the samurai who was being relieved.

"Oh, this? Just my laundry," the newcomer replied. "Once my watch is over, I'll have a slave take it to wash." As the leader of the samurai, he was taking the final watch. He would be on duty when the Master arrived for the punishment.

"I could send someone now," the first man said, showing deference.

The newcomer laughed. "Ah, well, I am not so young as I used to be, and there is only that one hard bench in here. These old bones want something with more give to rest upon," he said, suiting action to words and sitting on his hamper. It creaked and shifted, but held him. "Perhaps it is weakness, but you are not a man to shame yourself by stooping to tale-bearing, so there is no one unworthy to see my shame."

The first man ducked his head. He was young, and among the lowest of the samurai in service to the Master, so the other man's words were almost too much. To have the highest samurai complement him so… "I see nothing here that could shame any warrior," he said stoutly, keeping his eyes lifted so he could not accidentally see the hamper. "The watch is yours. May the gods grant it should go smoothly."

"And may the gods give you good rest, knowing that you have admirably completed your part of that watch." These words were a ritual among the samurai of this land. The newcomer watched the first man leave.

* * *

><p>After nearly an hour, the samurai stood up. He walked over to stand in front of Milfoil.<p>

"Don't you touch her," Rice Paper cried. He knew that the Master had forbidden the warriors to rape her tonight, but there were many other things they could do to her, to torment her. So far, none of them had gone farther than words and insinuations, but he feared what the Master's highest samurai might do.

The samurai ignored him and spoke, his voice so soft that Milfoil could only just make out his words. "If I let you go, what would you do, woman?"

Milfoil gasped, then shook her head. "I swore to myself I would let no torment reach my soul," she said angrily, "but with one sentence, you have forced me to dishonor myself." For just one shining moment, she had hoped that there was a way out of this.

"You have not dishonored yourself," the samurai said. "I have participated in many punishments over the years, but this… this time the Master has gone too far. I will release you, and perform seppuku. The kanshi ritual, in this case, for I do indeed protest this decision my Master has made. But I must know – what would you do?"

Milfoil licked her lips. There was sincerity in the man's voice, but she still feared it might be a trick. "We would run. We would find some way, _any_ way, to gain our freedom."

The samurai smiled. "That is what I had hoped to hear." He unchained Milfoil, who watched him warily, but all he did was cross the room to unchain Rice Paper. Then he returned to his hamper. He took out two sets of clothes and offered them to Milfoil. "For purposes of disguise," he said. Milfoil and Rice Paper turned their backs, partly to him, and partly to each other, and changed swiftly. When they turned again, the samurai was in a white kimono, but he had removed the sleeves and let it hang, leaving his upper body bare. He held a long, narrow piece of white silk. "Woman, will you do me the honor of bandaging my wound?"

She hesitated, looking to Rice Paper. He gave a small shrug; it was up to her. "Yes," she said softly. "But before you do it, will you marry us?" The samurai nodded and the two slaves made hurried yet heartfelt vows to each other.

"By the power invested in me as a samurai warrior, I proclaim you wed." Then the samurai knelt and took up his knife. "In twenty minutes, there will be a brief opening among the watch. It will be at that swampy area to the north of the property. You must stay to the western side of it, though, to find a safe path through." When Milfoil and Rice Paper nodded to show that they'd understood, the samurai gave them his final words. "I do not know what it means, but I have heard of a magical talisman that might help you. But I was warned that this word is only to be invoked in the greatest of need, and it will cost you dearly. Do you wish to hear the word?"

"We do," Milfoil said, without hesitating.

"Rumpelstiltskin," the samurai said. Then he plunged his knife into the left side of his belly and drew it across, ending with an upward motion on his right side. As soon as he pulled the knife out of his flesh, Milfoil began to wrap the silken bandage around his torso, tightly, so that he would live long enough to confront the Master. As she finished, she whispered, "Thank you. You are a good man."

The samurai held her eyes for a long moment, bearing the pain stoically as he slipped his arms back into the kimono's sleeves and pulled the garment up onto his shoulders. Then he nodded, acknowledging her heartfelt words. Milfoil leaped up and grabbed Rice Paper's hand. They slipped out the door and headed for the northern border of the Master's property.

* * *

><p>It was about quarter after eight when Ed and Paige made it to Granny's. Granny herself had come out and taken their order. She seemed both happy and worried at the same time, and Paige wondered what was going on. Leroy and several of his friends had left shortly after Paige and Ed arrived, and they had all seemed to be in good spirits. She almost wished she could have talked to the usually-grumpy man, but she hadn't wanted to interrupt his celebration with his friends. Though, come to think of it, she hadn't even realized that he had many friends. Of course, that could all have changed when the Curse broke – she had no idea who he'd been in the world that was.<p>

Paige saw that mechanic, Billy, talking to Ruby on the other side of the room. He seemed to be flirting, but Ruby had her back to Paige, so it was hard to tell how she was reacting. Belle walked over to Ruby suddenly, but Paige was distracted by Granny bringing out their pie. Ed had ordered the cherry pie.

Suddenly, Ruby was next to Granny. She glanced at Paige, her expression tense, then turned to Granny and said, "It's time." Then she stalked away without looking back.

Granny noticed the look on Paige's face. "Don't you worry about her," Granny said kindly. "She's got a lot on her mind right now, and in a few days, she'll be back to her old self. You'll see." Despite the cheerful words, Paige could sense that something was wrong here, but she let it go.

Paige looked down and saw that there was ice cream on both plates, even though they had each only ordered a slice of pie. She looked at Granny questioningly. Granny smiled. "That's because we're celebrating. And it's on the house, Paige."

Granny barely waited for Paige's hand to make the "thank you" sign before she rushed into the back room. Something strange was definitely going on here.

Belle walked over, with David.

"We found diamonds," David said to Paige and Ed. "The kind that make fairy dust." At the look on Paige's face, he added, "I heard Granny tell you that we're celebrating, but you looked like you didn't know why."

"Is that… a good thing?" Ed sounded as confused as Paige felt.

"Yes," Belle said, glancing at David.

"It means that we can make Jefferson's hat work again. We can go through the portal and bring back Emma and Mary Margaret." He seemed excited, but Paige felt her stomach sink. She hadn't known that Jefferson was a portal jumper, but she was fairly certain that there were certain rules and limitations. She had heard of a hat that was also a portal, and if this was the same one, it meant that the same number that went in must come out again. Which would mean that David would have to strand two people back in the other land, in what might be terrible conditions. She had heard that Regina had lied at first, claiming their land was no longer there, and then admitting her lie later. But even if the conditions weren't terrible, though, who would want to go back there by themselves, not knowing if their loved ones would ever make it home? She could see that David had not truly thought this through.

But she didn't want to ruin his moment, so she smiled and signed to Ed, who said, "Congratulations, that's great!"

Then they had to explain to David why Paige couldn't talk. Belle excused herself, saying she'd had a long day in the library, and meant to be up early again tomorrow. She hoped to open soon.

* * *

><p>By the time Granny came into the kitchen, Ruby had started clearing out the freezer. "We should have done this earlier," she said.<p>

"We have plenty of time, Ruby," Granny replied. "I know you're worried about this, but you hurt your friend terribly out there."

"I'm not sure she _is_ my friend anymore," Ruby muttered to herself.

"What was that?" Granny asked.

"Nothing, Granny," Ruby sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm scared."

Granny hugged Ruby hard. "Everything will be fine, you'll see." But her words sounded hollow – they both knew how she felt about the wolf. "And I'll be right out here in the kitchen, all night."

Ruby pushed away. "Oh, no, Granny," she said, sounding panicked. "You can't! What if I get out? What if… what if I hurt you?" There were tears in her eyes. "Please, you have to leave, I _have _to know you're safe!"

Granny looked into Ruby's eyes. She wanted to stay, to be here if Ruby needed her, but the girl needed to be calmed right now. The more she panicked, the harder this would be. "Alright," Granny said, grudgingly. "I don't like leaving you here alone, you know. But if it will make this easier for you, I won't stay here."

"Thank you, Granny," Ruby said, kissing her grandmother quickly. "I know you want to help, but being away from me, being safe, is the best way you can do that."

Granny tried to smile. "Let get on with it," she said. There was still a lot of work to do on this freezer.

* * *

><p>Paige had tried to make conversation with Ed as they ate their pie, but she kept thinking of David, sitting a few booths down with Henry, who had turned out to be his grandson. David shouldn't be in charge of this town, not with his wife and daughter missing. He wasn't making rational decisions, and from everything she had heard, he hadn't even been raised as royalty. She wasn't sure if that was actually true, but she wondered. Of course, being raised as royalty didn't necessarily give one the tools one needed to rule – she and her father had proven that when they were neglecting their kingdom to find a way to save her brothers.<p>

She saw a man sit down with David after Henry walked away. It was the same man who had acted so strangely outside Gold's shop earlier. She thought his name might be Spencer or something like that. It sounded right in her head. The man seemed much calmer than when she'd seen him earlier. He spoke to David for a few minutes, and Paige got the impression that they weren't on very good terms. David got up and walked into the back.

After a bit, Paige wanted to see if Ruby was okay, and maybe to tell David that he should think about stepping down, at least for the time being. She told Ed to come with her; if Ruby had left, Paige would need a translator.

In the back room, David and Granny were exchanging a look. The freezer door was closed, but there were several aluminum pans sitting out on the table – what was going on here?

**Where's Ruby?** she signed, and Ed translated.

Granny licked her lips. "In there," she said tersely. At Paige's incredulous look, Granny explained, almost reluctantly. "Every full moon, she turns into a wolf. She had learned to control it, but with the Curse, it's been twenty-eight years since she last turned. So she's afraid the wolf will be stronger, and she doesn't want to hurt anyone. It's… a family curse."

Ed read Paige's hands and asked, "What about you, Granny?"

With a small smile, Granny said, "I'm far too old for that sort of thing anymore. I can still hear and smell like the wolf, but I haven't turned in – oh, many years, now."

Trying to lighten the mood, David joked, "Who knew Granny's lasagna was frozen, right?" He indicated a stack of the still-frozen aluminum pans. "Shame to see them go to waste, though."

Paige blinked. **Actually… if Granny doesn't mind, I'll take them.** When Ed had translated for her, Granny and David both looked at her, seeming almost confused.

**Well, the lasagna is delicious, and if it's frozen, then that would make it an easy meal, and I might want that as I get closer to my due date.** Ed told the others what Paige had said, and Granny chuckled.

"Alright, then," she said. "You have space for them?"

**I'm not sure. I know there's an old bunker freezer in storage with my parents' stuff, and if it still works…** Ed interpreted, and then turned to Paige.

"I can help you get it out of storage and set it up," the short young man offered.

**Tell Granny we'll call and let her know either way, okay?**

* * *

><p>Nearly an hour later, Paige and Ed were back. Granny had closed the diner already, but she had stayed in the kitchen and told Ed to park around the back of the building. David had taken Henry home. Ed insisted that Paige shouldn't lift anything, and Granny agreed, so Paige just held the screen door for them and then followed them to Ed's truck to see if she could help with anything there. They didn't see a figure watching from the shadows.<p>

As the three of them headed out for their second trip, Spencer slipped into the kitchen. He wasted no time, knowing that they wouldn't be gone for very long. The red cloak over his arm hampered him somewhat, but he wanted to be prepared in case the wolf got out earlier than he meant it to.

He had a mallet and a small axe with him. He used the corner of the axe blade to tap the pins on the top and middle hinges, shifting them both slightly upward. Then he pressed the curved blade to the top pin and used the red cloak, folded several times, to muffle the sound as he pounded the back of the axe with the mallet. After three or four good hits, he moved the axe and was pleased to see a deep groove carved into the pin. He used the mallet to tap the top pin back down again, so that the groove was almost completely hidden. Then he listened carefully. Voices!

He ducked through the door leading into the diner. The lights were out, and he pressed himself against the wall, listening closely. He heard Granny say that this would be the last trip. After the voices faded again, he peered in. They were gone. He knew he had to hurry.

Rushing, he treated the middle hinge the same as the first. He knew he didn't have time to try to shift the pin in the bottom hinge, so he just scored it deeply with his axe and hoped no one would notice. It was nearly at ground level, so it shouldn't be too conspicuous. He slipped back out the door and heard Granny saying goodbye to the two who had taken those wretched lasagnas. But then again, if they hadn't done so, Spencer would have had to risk actually breaking in to make sure that wolf got out. Smiling to himself, Spencer went looking for Billy. That girl, wolf, whatever she was, had killed many of his men, so he would go after a young man whose company she seemed to enjoy. It was only justice.

* * *

><p>The Master's eyes were cold as his foremost samurai revealed the mortal wound. "Put him on a horse," he barked to his other samurai. "Remove any weapons you find on his person. This man has no honor. Bring horses for the rest of us, and release the hounds. They should get a good scent from those rags." He indicated the pile of clothes that the two slaves had left behind.<p>

Once the dying man had been checked for weapons, the Master stepped close to him. "You will ride with us as we hunt them, dog," he hissed. "And if you are still alive when we find them, I'll have one of my girls work you up so you can still… participate. I must admit, I'm not sure what position works best when both parties are being forced, but you _will_ still defile her. Even if I have to cut that thing off and mount it on a stick!"

The samurai wanted to fight his way out of this, but he could feel his limbs growing weak from the loss of blood, and he was being held by two strong men.

He wasn't sure if he hoped to die on the hunt, or if he wanted to live long enough to find out if the two slaves had escaped.

* * *

><p>Breathing hard, RicePaper grabbed Milfoil's wrist and pulled her to a stop. "I cannot run much farther," he gasped. The hounds bayed again, and though his heart leapt in fear, his tired limbs could not be persuaded to run for more than a few steps. They were on the bank of a small lake, or perhaps a rather large pond, depending on how one defined such things.<p>

Milfoil was breathing just as hard, and was also about to collapse. "If only we had a knife," she murmured. She locked eyes with Rice Paper, and he could see that the knife would not have been for fighting, but for ending their lives before they could be caught. Then she remembered something. "That word he gave us," she said, almost hesitantly. "He said… that it would cost us dearly."

"At this point in time, we have nothing left to lose," Rice Paper panted. At Milfoil's questioning look, he nodded.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she cried out.

"Well, now," the imp said interestedly. "What _have_ we here?"

* * *

><p>When Paige had learned that someone had been killed horribly, she knew that everyone would blame Ruby. She also knew that Ruby couldn't have done it. Ruby was not the type to take a life, not unless it was absolutely necessary. Paige knew, because she herself was the same way, and she had recognized a kindred spirit in the pretty waitress.<p>

She had seen the mob out looking for the wolf, but she wasn't sure where Ruby might be. David seemed to know about the wolf, and seemed to be supportive; would he find a safe place for her? The only place Paige could think of was one of the jail cells in the sheriff's station, so as dusk fell, she headed there. All day she had tried to think of how she could help Ruby, but nothing had occurred to her, and she had finally decided that she should just go find her friend and let things play out however they would.

But a chain that had clearly been meant to keep people out of the sheriff's station was lying on the ground, cut. David had thought Ruby would be safe here, and he had been wrong! Fearing the worst, Paige rushed inside.

There was no body, no blood, just two empty jail cells, but the desk drawers had been forced open and seemed to have been rifled through. What could the mob have been looking for? The keys? _Had_ Ruby been in the cell, and they dragged her away to bring her to so-called justice elsewhere?

Rushing outside, Paige hurried through the streets. At last, she saw the mob milling around outside the library, of all places. They were restless, which meant that they didn't have Ruby after all. Paige breathed a sigh of relief. Then she heard a wolf howl, somewhere behind her. Ruby!

She realized that the mob was now coming in her direction. They looked angry, and that man, that Spencer or whatever his name was, was at their head. Paige ran out to stand directly in their path, making motions for them to stop.

"What do you want?" Spencer sneered.

Paige had already pulled out a notebook and hurriedly scribbled, _Please, don't hurt her! She would never kill anyone!_

Spencer read the note and sneered even more than before. "Tell that to the men she ripped apart back in our world. _My_ men! Ripped to pieces by that… that _monster_!" He looked at Paige again, then at the notebook he still held in his hand. "Oh, I've heard about you," he said dangerously. "You're that mute girl that works for Gold. Or rather, Rumpelstiltskin! I guess if you're in league with one monster, you're in league with them all, eh? Monster-lover!"

The crowd behind him pressed forward, enraged. Paige suddenly realized that she was in way over her head. She was nervously glancing at the crowd when she felt a sudden explosion of pain on the side of her face. Spencer had back-handed her!

She flailed desperately, trying to catch herself, or at least to keep from falling on her stomach. The only trouble was, she couldn't tell which way was up or down. But suddenly, two warm, strong arms were around her, protecting her. She wanted to look up, to find out who had come to her rescue, but all she could do was cling to the person who had caught her. It came as quite a shock to hear Mike's voice.

"We were _Cursed_, Spencer. None of us knew who we were. Who Gold was." Mike sounded grim and determined, and Paige felt warmed by his bravery. He was facing down an angry mob for her! Could this mean that he had decided?

The crowd surged forward, but Spencer said, "We've got a real monster to take care of first, before it kills again! We can find those who have betrayed their own kind later, once that wolf is dead." He led them onward, toward that howl they had heard earlier.

Trembling, Paige straightened in Mike's arms. He let go, but then put his hands under her elbows to steady her. He led her to the curb and sat her down. Sitting beside her, he asked, "Are you alright, Paige?"

It was only now that Paige saw the gun in Mike's hand. But she didn't mention it, she just asked, **Why did you lie? **_**I **_**knew who I was. Who… Gold was.**

Mike gave her a look. "Oh, right, 'cause _that_ would have gone over _so_ well with the angry mob!" His thick sarcasm was tempered by a hint of fondness, and Paige felt that hope swelling in her again. But before she could sign anything, he said, "Look, Paige, I saw you head out, and I kind of figured you would try to help Ruby." He gave a wry chuckle. "She's a werewolf. That explains why she wasn't afraid of regular wolves." He seemed to be talking to himself, but then he shook his head. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you something. I… I haven't decided yet, but there is one thing I know for sure." He looked deep into Paige's eyes. "I know it would be hard for you, but I _cannot_ marry you if it means a stranger's child will take _our_ child's place. If we do marry, it has to be after she's born." He swallowed at the pain on Paige's face. "I just… I'm sorry to put that on you, but I had to let you know."

Paige didn't know what to say, so she just nodded, in a daze.

"Come on," Mike sighed. "Let's get you safely home." Paige was about to protest when the sheriff's car sped by with David and Granny inside. Mike had seen Paige's reluctance to leave, so he added, "They can handle this. Ruby – back in our world, she told me about her grandmother and that crossbow, and wasn't David actually Prince Charming? I mean, Ruby's in really good hands, and besides, just because I can't live with that man's daughter becoming queen doesn't mean I think you should risk her life, and yours in the bargain."

Paige smiled tremulously and let him lead her to his car.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin gave a shrill giggle. "Oh, slavery in this kingdom will be abolished soon enough, dearies, but there will always be those who feel a need to subjugate others in cruel fashion."<p>

Milfoil stared into Rice Paper's eyes, and he could tell she was determined. The corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile as he nodded.

"Dark One," she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Is there some way we could help others who find themselves in our situation? Some way to rescue them from cruel masters?"

"Ooh-ooh-ooh," the impish man chortled. "Fancy yourself a savior, do you?" He cast his eyes across the tiny lake as he considered her request. "There might well be a way, dearies," he mused aloud, "but I daresay you'll find it a bit… strange." His eyes followed a pair of mandarin ducks along the far shore. They swam out of sight under the fronds of a young willow tree. The fronds did not quite reach the surface of the water.

"Please, Dark One," Milfoil whispered. "Tell us what is required."

"Your human bodies cannot survive the decades easily," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "I _could _extend your lives, but you would age as usual and grow ever older and more doddering as the years passed. And you would be no good to anyone in that state!" He gave a small laugh and smirked as he continued. "But, if I were to place your spirits into… longer-lived creatures, perhaps even somewhat, ah, _magical_ creatures, you would be better equipped to survive the years."

Rice Paper spoke up. "Will this harm the creatures you speak of?"

"Not in the slightest, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin answered, a wicked gleam in his eye. This wouldn't harm the ducks at all, but it _would_ give him much easier access to mandarin duck eggs. Given that the ducks were already magical creatures, their eggs were well-suited to magic, and by enchanting these two humans to merge with the ducks, it might even boost the eggs' magical qualities somewhat.

The hounds bayed, closer than ever. "We haven't much time," Milfoil said, her voice low and urgent. "What is your price?"

"It goes thusly, dearie," said Rumpelstiltskin. "You and your… husband, will be ensconced in the bodies of a mated pair of mandarin ducks. Whenever you have found someone you wish to wescue," he lisped, mocking them, "you will return to your human forms. You will have a day, perhaps a day and a half at most to perform your… heroics. When you revert to your duck forms, she will lay a single egg. Any egg created thus is my payment." He smirked. As if a new thought had suddenly occurred to him, he added, "Oh, and of course, my payments will be the _only _eggs you will ever lay, dearie." He gave Milfoil a significant look.

She felt her face go pale. What he meant was that she would never have children, not even ducklings. But she had long tried to make her peace with being childless, and it would be better to live without children for hundreds of years and save others from her own cruel fate than to die and leave those poor souls helpless. Swallowing hard, she said, "It's a deal."

A contract suddenly unrolled from the imp's hand, and he gave her a quill, saying, "Just sign here, then, dearie." Once she had, he took the quill back and handed it to Rice Paper, saying, "And you, right there." He pointed at a line just below the one Milfoil had signed.

* * *

><p>The Master was furious when the hounds found only empty clothes at the shore of the tiny lake. "Cowards!" he screamed at the lapping water. "You dishonor yourselves with such a pathetic death!"<p>

The samurai, still barely clinging to life and consciousness, wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. The two slaves had gone where the Master couldn't follow, but as the same time, did their suicide dishonor his own death? He simply did not know, and his inability to figure it out made him realize just how close the end was for him.

Then a single orange feather floated in front of his face. He looked again at the two piles of discarded clothing – they were crumpled, not as if they had been tossed aside in a hurry, but as if the people wearing the clothes had simply disappeared! There were more feathers near the clothes. The samurai tried to look out at the water, but his vision had now become so faded and blurred that he couldn't make anything out at that distance. The last thing he heard was the triumphant quacking of a pair of mandarin ducks. The samurai died with a peaceful smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Hisashi and Kame were shocked to discover what had happened the night before. An angry mob had tried to kill Ruby? They had been to Granny's Diner, as had most of the residents of Storybrooke, and though the girl had always dressed in a shockingly provocative manner, they couldn't imagine anyone killing her. Even knowing that she became a wolf during the full moon, it was a surprise.<p>

They explained their situation to Takeshi and Megumi, whom they had rescued not long before the Curse was enacted. They told the couple that they intended to speak to Gold about their duck forms, and warned the younger couple that it might mean the Oshidoris would become mandarin ducks again. The two young people were very supportive.

* * *

><p>Gold smirked at the question. "Oh, you can revert to your ducky selves whenever you wish," he said. "The only thing holding you back is yourselves. Or perhaps… <em>one<em> of you."

Kame swallowed. "Will remaining in this form jeopardize our mission?"

"Well," Gold replied, "whilst in this form, you will age as humans, whereas in your other form you would age at the rate of the mandarin ducks. In other words, the more time you spend as humans, the shorter your avian lives will be in the long run."

Hisashi spoke up. "Will being human harm the ducks in any way?"

"Aside from shortening their natural lifespans?" Gold asked sarcastically. "No." He eyed Kame expectantly. He knew she had a question she wanted answered.

"Since we did not choose to be human here, will we owe you payment for returning to our other forms?"

Gold's voice held just a hint of irritation as he replied. "That's not what you really want to know, is it, dearie?"

"The eggs," she said nervously, "the eggs were your payment, but… in this form, can we… can _I_… carry a child?"

Hisashi seemed surprised by her question, but Gold just ran his eyes over Kame's torso, almost disdainfully. "I suppose the Curse hasn't been broken long enough for you to realize it, but your human body is, ah, just a bit beyond the task of childbearing, dearie."

Kame sagged into her husband's arms, looking heartbroken, but Hisashi had caught something odd in Gold's phrasing. "Her _human_ body?"

Smirking to himself, Gold began idly straightening a display. "That's right," he answered.

"So… what of her duck body?" Hisashi held Kame tight as hope bloomed on her face.

"Why, right you are, dearie," Gold exclaimed, as if he had only just realized. "Mandarin ducks live longer than humans, and are also fertile for longer."

"But… but you said…" Kame cut off, trying to remember Rumpelstiltskin's exact words.

"The only eggs you'll ever lay _will_ be payments to me," Gold said, "but this time it's a bit different. You see, you're the only two magical ducks in this entire world, and who knows when I may have need of a magically inclined egg? They're quite useful, you know. But once the pair of you are gone, so are my magic eggs."

"So we're doing you a favor, so to speak," Hisashi said thoughtfully.

Mr. Gold flashed him a tense, irritated smile. How vulgar of the man to simply spout it out like that. "Indeed."

Hisashi looked at his wife, then back at Gold. "Tell us more."

"Well, dearies, I'm afraid your ducklings will _have_ no human form. They will simply be mandarin ducks," Gold said. "No way around that, though."

Kame stilled, looking thoughtful. She was startled when her husband spoke again. "Then we're going to need something from you, Gold," Hisashi said, wishing his voice didn't sound so shaky. But he barreled on. "We want the ability to become human even when there aren't any oppressed persons to save. To change our shape freely."

With a thoughtful look, Gold said, "Agreed, although there will _have _to be limitations. For instance, you cannot remain in human form for more than one week at a time, and every time you become human, you must then spend twice as long as ducks. So for instance, if you're human for an hour, then become ducks again, you won't be able to take human form for at least two hours."

"I can agree to that," Hisashi said.

"Not finished yet," Gold admonished.

Hisashi sighed. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Smirking, Gold went on. "Also, _should_ you offer any kind of aid to the poor, repressed souls you might find along the way, I _will_ still collect the egg that is owed per our prior agreement."

"Finished now?" the other man asked.

Giving him a mischevious look, Gold let the silence hang for a moment before saying, "Yes."

"Kame?" He looked deep into his wife's eyes. She simply nodded.

Gold met Hisashi's eyes and asked, "Well, then, dearies, do we have an accord?"

Hisashi's only answer was to offer his hand to Gold, who shook it, sealing the deal.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Child of the Moon." Actually, it starts a little before the events of the episode, then catches up and encompasses the episode.

According to Milfoil, the name Eunice derives from the name of a muse. The muse I am referring to is from classical Greek mythology. Her name is Euterpe, and she was known as the "giver of pleasure," and later the muse of music. However, this is for the purposes my story only! The name Eunice actually means "good victory," and as far as I can tell, has only the "eu" in common with the name Euterpe, which may indicate that the beginnings of those names are rooted in the same prefix, but does not necessarily indicate that Eunice could have been derived from Euterpe.

Milfoil is a traditional name for the herb known as yarrow.

Seppuku was a Japanese form of suicide, most often used by samurai. The man would dress in white, write a death poem (although it was considered very base indeed for the death poem to actually be about death), and then would ritualistically make a cut from the left side of his stomach to the right.. A warrior might use seppuku as means of regaining lost honor, as in the story of the 47 ronin – using an honorable death to counter a dishonorable act. A samurai performing seppuku usually had a second, who stood behind him. At a predetermined signal from the man who was to die, the second would use his sword and nearly decapitate the man. It could happen at any moment, from the time the samurai picked up his blade to after he had finished the cut. It was very important that it not be a complete decapitation; that was how criminals were executed, and was a dishonorable way to die. The second was leave a flap of skin on the front of the neck so that the head was not only still attached, but would fall forward and thus hide the face. There are different forms of seppuku. The kanshi form that the samurai in my story uses was meant, as is stated here, to protest a lord's decision. The horizontal cut across the stomach was the same, but there was no second. The wound was immediately bandaged, after which the retainer would appear before his lord and formally announce his protest. Then he would reveal his mortal wound.

Also, I do not know ABC's intentions regarding how Spencer acquired Ruby's red hood, or how he could be sure that she would escape in order to be blamed for Billy's death. I strongly suspect that Spencer had a hand in Ruby's escape, and so I wrote it into my chapter. Spencer's deal with Gold, as well as Spencer's sabotage of the freezer, are for the purposes of my story only!

Hope you enjoyed it, and please please PLEASE review!


	29. S2 Ch8 - Lone Wolf

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's material.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, a king name Rolph once ruled all three of the kingdoms Eliza and Andrew know today, but in trying to do what he thought best for the kingdom, Rolph betrayed his first wife, and then his eldest son. The result split the kingdom into three, leaving Rolph with but a remnant. In current times, Rolph's line seems to have disappeared – until one young boy, Felix, meets his Uncle Damian. Because of his uncle's stories, Felix eventually makes a deal with Rumpelstiltskin for the proof of his lineage, which allows him to become the leader of the Royalist faction. Since he is a direct descendant, he is the first to have any true hope of uniting the kingdom. He believes that having a son, Robert, will help to secure the throne, since there is already an heir. He does not yet know that the boy is not his son, but rather was switched at birth.

~In Storybrooke, Paige wonders if David is too distracted by personal matters to be a good leader for the people. She feels he is putting far too much faith in Jefferson's hat, especially since he doesn't seem to understand how the hat really works.

Also, she has revealed the true identity of the father of her child to Dr. Horne and the Blue family. Horne believes she should choose to deny her daughter the right to rule for political purposes, and the Blues are quite adamant in stating that they would not want to be ruled by the Dark One's child. Ed Grove, who was a knight from her kingdom in the other world, is in love with his princess. The short young man awkwardly promises that he will marry Paige if it becomes necessary – if she chooses to give her daughter the chance to prove herself, and if Mike still refuses to marry her before she gives birth.

Mike has reconnected with an old friend, Mark. The Curse gave them memories of having lived next door to each other when they were children, but they lost touch when Mike's family moved away in the wake of an accident at Mark's house, wherein Mike's father, a volunteer fireman, rushed to save the life of Mark's younger sister, Jade.

* * *

><p>"I do not believe that Wolfs truly exist, Father," Robert said, his voice imperious. At the age of eight, he was already acting like a spoiled prince, but Felix found it quite endearing. Besides, the boy <em>should<em> be a prince, and hopefully would be before he came of age. Felix was slowly but surely gathering support. Everyone in this kingdom was quite tired of the constant fighting, but until Felix's ancestry had been discovered, every faction had refused to follow the intended leader of any other faction. But an actual descendant of the royal line, well, that was a different story. Or so Felix was trying to convince the other factions.

Amused by his son's proclamation, Felix asked, "And what of the stories I've told?"

"They're only stories, Father," the boy replied, his voice patient, but with a slight edge of exasperation, as if Felix were being intentionally stubborn.

"Ah, but I have seen a Wolf with my own eyes, son," Felix said, fighting a smile.

"I tell you, Father, there is no such thing!" Robert crossed his arms. The look on his face seemed to be daring his father to keep insisting that Wolfs were real.

But before Felix could reply, little four-year-old Ember piped up. "No such thing!" She, too, folded her arms over her chest, her little face set in an angry pout.

Felix couldn't contain his smile any longer. Not with that adorable little face glaring up at him, fire in those green eyes. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, but if it was anything like his own hair, it would darken over the years to a more sandy shade of blond. Robert's grey eyes held a challenge, and Felix began to wonder what exactly his children wanted from him now. Usually, they fought, but when they were both interested in something, they were quite adept at teaming up against their father until he gave in.

"Well, it seems we have a problem. My children, the fruit of my own loins, believe me a liar," Felix said, trying to pretend he was being serious. "Whatever shall we do about that?"

Robert's face went shrewd and calculating, which Felix found even more endearing. "Hmm," the boy mused. "Perhaps _you_ can think of something, Father? After all, you're the one accused."

"Oh, is that so?" Felix was surprised at the boy's boldness. "Your lessons have been sadly lacking, son. These days, we believe burden of proof should fall on the accuser. Innocent until proven guilty, my boy!"

Little Ember seemed bored with all the grown-up talk, and began to amuse herself by walking on the cracks between the large stone tiles that made up the floor. She held her arms out, swaying as if balancing on a rope high in the air. Felix chuckled. It was adorable the way children could use the simplest things to entertain themselves.

Robert seemed taken aback, but Felix knew that the boy was after something specific, and sure enough, Robert spoke up rather quickly. "Well," he said, trying to pretend he had just come up with the idea. "Perhaps you could take Ember and myself out to _see_ a Wolf. After all, seeing is believing, Father."

Ember turned from her make-shift game to punctuate her brother's point. "See a Wolfie!" She threw her head back and let loose a howl. She had only ever heard a regular wolf howling before, but her childish, innocent attempt at sounding like a wild creature brought a smile to Felix's face.

"See a 'Wolfie,' eh?" he asked, his mind reeling. How on earth had his children come up with such an idea? But their pleading expressions melted his heart, while at the same time, the honesty of their words chilled him. They _truly_ did not believe that Wolfs were real. "Hmm. I cannot make promises, but perhaps I can arrange something for you," he said. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "Your mother isn't going to like this one bit."

* * *

><p>Paige was glad Mike had agreed to accompany her and translate, even though he didn't agree with her. She knew Dr. Horne would have done it, but it meant a lot to her that Mike was there. He still hadn't decided what to do about their relationship, and it showed as he hesitated over deciding to hold the door for her. In the end, he did hold the door for her, because it was a polite and gentlemanly thing to do.<p>

David looked up and asked, "What can I do for you?" His face was open and friendly, and Paige felt a little guilty for what she was about to do.

She steeled herself and signed to Mike, who said, "First of all, she wants me to tell you that I disagree with what she's about to say. I have no issue with you taking up a leadership role in this town, but…"

"But you do?" David asked, addressing Paige. When she nodded, David said, "Well, I hope you'll let me try to prove myself. By the way, where _are_ you two from? I can't put my finger on it, but for some reason I don't think you're from a kingdom I know."

"Actually, you might have heard of Paige's kingdom," Mike said. "The Blueberry kingdom?"

"Oh, wow," David answered. "You're right, I _have_ heard of that." Addressing Paige, he said, "You didn't mention that the other night." Then he turned back to Mike. "But what about you, ah…"

"Mike. Well, in this world. In the Enchanted Forest I was Andrew, a prince of the Wolfsbane kingdom. But the Wolfs seem to have stayed far closer to our borders with the forest; when I met Red and Snow, they had never heard of Wolfs. Anyway, my brother is the king there, and I was betrothed to Eliza, whom you know as Paige."

"I didn't realize the Blueberry kingdom was on the same continent," David mused. Then he noticed Paige's somewhat impatient expression. "But you came here to explain why you think I shouldn't be running this town. Please, enlighten me."

Mike explained that he would translate directly, and Paige signed. "Why should we follow a shepherd? Spencer may have gone about it the wrong way, but he _does_ have a point. What right have you to lead us? There are plenty of others here trained to rule. Tristan, known here as Noah." Mike paused in his translation for a moment to explain, "That's my brother, by the way," before he continued speaking Paige's words for her.

"Also, I've heard that Ashley was Cinderella, so her prince has been trained to rule. For that matter, her father-in-law was a king in our world." Mike felt that Paige had left out someone very important, so he added, "And Paige is the heir to her father's kingdom, and will rule it when he is no longer with us. Although she and her father both let personal concerns rule them for the last few years." There was a touch of bitterness in his voice, and the hurt look in her eyes made him sorry he'd said that aloud. But he didn't try to backpedal, he just translated as Paige's hands moved again.

"That's exactly why I didn't mention myself." He made a face and said, "I mean, that's what she's signing right now. I don't mean me personally. I know I'm not cut out to be a king. I'm just a simple soldier."

"You'd be surprised at how often simple men turn out to be the best of kings," David said softly. "But I'd like the chance to answer Paige's concerns, unless she's not finished?"

Paige shook her head and raised her hands again, and Mike spoke. "I know that I let personal concerns – the welfare of my brothers – come before that of my people. And I worry that you're doing the same thing. That hat – you can't use it. There are rules – the same number of people that go into the hat _must_ come back through. So if you bring Emma and Mary Margaret back here, you have to strand two others in whatever may be left of our world."

David seemed taken aback. "I… I didn't know. But it doesn't matter anyway. Spencer – well, he destroyed the hat."

Looking relieved, Paige signed again. "Maybe that's for the best," Mike translated.

"Maybe," David said, but it didn't sound like much of an agreement. "But let me tell you how I came to be a prince. I grew up a simple shepherd. My mother and I ran the farm, and it was hard. We were always poor, and it seemed like every year, we were just a little deeper in debt. Until Rumpelstiltskin came. I found out that I had a twin brother – Rumpelstiltskin took him when we were just infants. He grew up as King George's son, but he died, and the king needed me to pretend to be his son, to get paid for my brother's skill as a warrior. They didn't mean for me to face the dragon, but it was killing them." His voice was earnest and sincere, and Paige could sense his pain at remembering the knights dying while he was supposed to do nothing. "So I saved the one man I could, and I killed the dragon. I don't know where that came from – I never knew I had it in me. But it felt so natural, so _right_. And I was happy I'd made the deal with Rumpelstiltskin. Until I realized just how corrupt King George was. But as soon as I broke away from him, I made no secret of my origins. I rescued Snow and we started winning back the kingdom, and everyone kept calling me a prince even though I didn't feel I deserved it." He paused, then added, "Besides, King George's original heir was my brother, also born a poor shepherd. He hadn't a drop of royal blood in his veins, either, and George was lying to his people about it."

Reading Paige's hands, Mike replied, "But he was _raised_ as a prince. He was taught about all the duties and responsibilities of a king.

"But that doesn't mean he would have been a good one," David countered. "I've heard a few things about him, and it seems like he was arrogant, selfish. If there's one thing I've learned from Snow about leading people, it's respect. You have to have respect for the people you rule. If you can't understand that they are every bit as important as you are, you'll never be a good ruler. Treat them as you would want to _be_ treated – it's just common decency. Some people are born with it, but most have to learn it. But there are some who couldn't care less, and I get the idea that my brother was one of those. And for the ones who don't care about the people, all the training in the world is just… a waste."

David looked pensive for a moment. "And I know that I'm letting my emotions get the best of me right now, but Mary Margaret – Snow – she _is_ my heart. And Emma – I _just _got my daughter back, and she's already been ripped away from me again. The last time I saw her before the Curse broke, she wasn't even an hour old. I fought my way to the wardrobe and sent her through, condemning her to a life alone in this world. And with her gone, I can't even try to make up for that. So yes, I'm putting two people ahead of everyone else more often than not, but I'm doing it because I care. Because I love them both very much. And if I ignore love, what kind of man would I become? As David, I ignored it once, and I hurt Mary Margaret badly. I'm still ashamed of that. Ruling doesn't necessarily mean ignoring your own heart. It's… a balance. And I may not be very good at it, but at least I'm trying. I didn't save Ruby _just_ because she's my friend. I also did it because I knew that I couldn't let these people put the murder of an innocent on their consciences. Yes, I wanted to save my friend, but I also wanted to save _them_. It just worked out that following my heart and pursuing the good of the people meant doing the same thing this time."

Paige looked more relaxed than she had at any time during this conversation. Mike, watching her hands, said, "Alright. You _are_ worthy. But David, you can't keep doing it all. Sheriff _and_ prince? You'll run yourself into the ground trying to do both, especially since you're also trying to save your wife and daughter."

"If that's what I have to do, then that's what I'll do," David said, shrugging. It seemed simple to him. "And if you have a problem with anything I do, any decision I make regarding the townsfolk, come and talk to me about it, like you're doing right now. Just give me a chance, Paige."

After a long moment, she simply nodded.

* * *

><p>Felix sighed. "You know as well as I do that the very edges are not so dangerous. That is where the lone Wolfs lurk, those shunned from the pack. The pack will not go near them."<p>

"But m'lord," an anxious knight said, "The children are far too young to be put in such danger. And if all of you are killed, what of our chances to reunite our kingdom? You and your children are the last descendants of King Rolph. It's too dangerous!"

"My uncle took me to see a Wolf when I was a boy." Felix's voice was soft.

His wife Dorcas spoke up. "You were fifteen. Nearly a man. You knew how to use a sword. Robert is but eight, and Ember? She _certainly_ cannot go!"

"They do not believe in a danger that could well pose problems for us in the future," Felix said, still speaking softly. "If that disbelief is never challenged, they cannot prepare for the possibility. Also, if Robert should ever have to opportunity to… _reclaim_ the so-called Wolfsbane kingdom, to regain what should, by rights, be ours, he will definitely need to understand what would be required to protect his reacquisition. They _need_ to know the truth."

"You can disabuse them of their childish notions when they grow older," Dorcas snapped.

"Can I?" Felix asked. "Who can say what the morrow will bring? If fate conspires to leave them somehow unable to learn the truth in the future, everything we've worked for could be destroyed. The Wolfsbane kingdom has held the Wolfs back for centuries, but what if the Wolfs grow too numerous? What if the elder twin's kingdom falls and our forces are unprepared?"

Several of the knights in the room shifted. The man who might well become their king had a point. Sometimes, putting something off until later led only to regret.

Looking wildly around the room, Dorcas shrieked, "You cannot be taking him seriously! They are helpless children!"

"The young Lord Robert is already beyond his age-level with the sword, m'lady," a slender young man said. He had been raised to knighthood less than a year ago, but he remembered playing at swords with the other pages when he was Robert's age – at that point, the boys were given little in the way of sword-training, but being Felix's son, some of the trainers let him learn with the older boys. It was well-known that Lord Felix approved of the boy learning the sword, no matter that Robert was so young.

"But my daughter would be helpless!" Dorcas was not usually given to hysterics, but she did not approve of putting her innocent daughter in needless danger.

"I will take no less than a dozen of our best knights, Dorcas," Felix said soothingly. "We will have reinforced wagons. I will pose as a merchant attempting the dangerous trek past the Wolfs to the kingdoms on the other side, but I rather doubt our ruse will even be necessary. It seems unlikely that we will meet with others." He spread out a map. "We will camp here, just outside the borders of the Wolfsbane kingdom, and _well_ outside of even the fringes of Wolf territory. From there, we will assess the state of affairs, find traces of an outcast Wolf, and study the situation. If we cannot find a safe way to allow the children to observe it, we will kill it and bring the carcass back to camp."

Dorcas shuddered delicately. "How dreadfully grisly! You'll give them nightmares!"

"Not only is this what they want, it is something they _need_ to know, to understand. They cannot be allowed to take Wolfs for granted. Their lives, and the lives of everyone in this kingdom, could one day depend on this knowledge." Felix met his wife's eyes, and she could see that he would not be budged.

"Two dozen knights," she insisted.

"Eighteen. Too many guards for a merchant caravan would look suspicious," Felix replied.

"Two. Dozen. No less," Dorcas hissed. "And I want six of them assigned to _each_ of the children, to never leave their sides. If you must endanger our children, you will aspire to keep them as safe as possible."

The assembled knights and advisors, thirteen men in all, turned. Felix's closest advisor spoke for all of them. "We find ourselves in unanimous agreement with the queen. Two dozen knights shall accompany you."

"Two dozen, on one condition. The mission we are on will not leave this room. Only those here, and the men who accompany us, will know what the true mission is."

"But how shall we choose the knights?" asked a middle-aged knight.

Felix smiled. "Simple. We shall hold a tournament. We will announce that we are selecting a group of elite knights to protect the royal family on a trip. If anyone questions it, we'll tell them that it's for the good of our kingdom's future, and allow them to believe that this is a campaigning trip." He inclined his head toward Dorcas. "All know my wife's health waxes and wanes, so it will not be a surprise to anyone when it turns out that she will not be able to accompany us. Then during the beginning of our journey, the knights who were chosen will be briefed on the true nature of this mission."

The thirteen knights and advisors conferred briefly. "Very well," said one of the advisors. "We would still like to make it known that we do _not_ like this idea, but we will support it under the conditions you have proposed."

Felix held his smile in check – well, mostly. He couldn't believe that he had gotten them to agree so easily. Dorcas, however, gave him a withering look as she stalked out of the room, and he knew she meant to punish him. He would have to remember to try to get her to talk to him on occasion. It wouldn't do for her to realize that he sometimes preferred her silence. He loved her very much, it was true, but he had found that it was sometimes better _not_ to get into a shouting match with her.

* * *

><p>Mike didn't speak during the car ride home. Deep down, he knew he shouldn't have insulted Paige the way he had, but he couldn't find it in himself to apologize. When they got back to the duplex, he was surprised that Paige followed him into his side of the house.<p>

"What do you want, Paige?" he asked, sounding impatient. "I've already told you that I'm still deciding." He winced as soon as he'd said it. Why did he keep saying stupid, hurtful things to her?

**I just want you to know that you are not my only option.**

Mike blinked. "What does _that_ mean?"

**If I decide that I want my daughter to have the opportunity to prove herself, and you won't marry me? Ed will.** Paige's jaw was clenched.

"Wait, Ed? As in, Ed Grove? Sir Elrick from our world?" Mike seemed incredulous. "You'd marry that shrimp instead of me?"

**Don't be so insulting, Mike. Ed loves me so much that he would gladly accept my daughter as his queen someday,** she signed. **He would do anything for me, unlike someone I could mention.** She gave Mike a meaningful glare.

Mike laughed, a loud belly laugh that startled Paige. "You'd never marry him, Paige. Don't think you're fooling me."

**Oh, won't I? What you said in front of David **_**was**_** insulting, but you're right. I let my personal feelings come before the needs of my kingdom, of my people. I'm still ashamed of that. But this time will be different.** Mike tried to say something, but Paige held a finger to his lips for a moment. When he closed his mouth again, she pulled her hand back to sign, **Please let me finish. My kingdom was founded on the principle that everyone can become whatever they wish, so long as they are able. And that includes the first-born child of the ruling monarch or the heir to the throne. By that principle, the daughter I'm carrying should have the right to prove herself. I have to decide what is more important – my kingdom's founding principle, or my heart. My heart wants me to wait for you, but my head tells me that I should marry Ed if that is what's required. I listened to my heart last time, and by doing so, I abandoned my people. What should I do this time, Mike?**

He swallowed hard. "By the gods, Eliza! You're serious about this!" He was truly shocked.

**As serious as I've ever been.**

"But… you don't love Elrick. Ed. Whatever his name is. You don't love him!" There was almost a pleading note to the last sentence, as if he was afraid she did have feelings for the short knight.

**No. But it would hardly be the first time a princess married for political reasons and not romantic ones. And he **_**is**_** devoted to me.** Paige paused for a moment. **It would break my heart to marry him instead of you, Mike, but my heart is what got me in trouble last time, and you clearly disapprove of me following my heart.**

"No! That's… that's not what I meant, Paige!" Mike cupped Paige's face in one hand. "I love you. It… it made me uncomfortable to have to rule your kingdom in your stead, especially since both you and your father were in good health, at least physically. But I don't resent it, and I don't disapprove. I just… felt like you'd put me in a very awkward position. I understood why, but I still felt like I wasn't up to the task. I… I don't think I deserved your trust. If it hadn't been for Nerean, I know I would have screwed it up. I'm not cut out to be a ruler, Paige."

Paige brushed a tear from his cheek. She stared into his eyes for a long moment before signing, **I never knew you felt so incompetent. Dr. Horne told me almost exactly the same thing right after the Curse was broken, but he said that **_**he**_** would have ruined things if not for **_**you**_**. I think you're both far more capable than you realize. But the fact remains, Mike, that I **_**have**_** to get it right this time. If I mess things up again, I'm not sure I can call myself the Crown Princess. I'm not sure I would deserve to be my father's heir.**

"But marrying someone you don't love – your father was so against that idea! That's why he came to my brother and arranged for us to meet," Mike said urgently.

**I know that, Mike. But my father's wishes for me take a back seat to what's best for my kingdom. Father knew that, and I know it.** Paige looked away, her face sad.

"I promised you something a long time ago, Paige. Back when you first played your violin for me. I swore that I would help you not to lose yourself in the duties of being Queen." Mike hesitated. "Well, I'm going start making good on that oath right now, even though you're not actually Queen yet. You can't decide solely on the basis of what's right for your kingdom. If you do that, you _will_ resent your decision. If you jump into this, you're going to end up hating him, and maybe even resenting your daughter, since you're doing this for her sake. I know you, Paige. You don't like to be forced into anything. So if… if you decide to go through with this, make sure you're doing it because it's what _you_ want, okay? Not what you think you _have_ to do." He paused for a moment, thinking. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't make that decision in haste."

**But she's due in about sixteen weeks. There **_**isn't**_** much time.**

"Just promise me you'll really think about it. From _all_ sides, not just the political viewpoint." Mike took Paige's hands in his own. "Promise me!"

With no other way to communicate, Paige nodded tearfully.

* * *

><p>The camp was as well-fortified as they could make it. They had even put up a crude palisade of sorts, to make the spot that much more defendable. Felix and the dozen knights not assigned to the children had been out scouting for almost three days. Felix had seen more Wolfsign than he'd expected, but he told himself that most of it must be old by now. They had finally located a lone Wolf, but they were still learning its habits, trying to discover where it bedded down at night.<p>

Two of the knights were going to remain, the two who were best at scouting in the woods. Felix and the other ten headed back. Instead of re-tracing their rather circuitous route, they judged by the position of the sun and took a straighter route. Suddenly, Felix stopped dead, closing his fist in a silent signal to his knights. He had come across the tracks of humans! There were at least a dozen of them, perhaps more. In hushed tones, he conferred with the group's best remaining tracker.

"No, sire, these do not belong to us. And they don't look the tracks of the men we left with the children, either. You see," the man said, squatting down to gesture at the footprints, "the heels, and even the toes, of the boots are shaped differently than those of our kingdom's uniforms, but they're all the same, even these smaller ones. That suggests a militant group. Not mercenaries, though, they wouldn't all wear the same boots. I'd say this is a patrol of the Wolfsbane kingdom."

"You're probably right," Felix agreed softly. He didn't know what to do. Should he pack up and head home without showing his children a Wolf? His cover-story about being merchants seemed awfully flimsy and unbelievable now. Why would any merchant skirt the Wolfsbane kingdom? Why not travel in safety as long as possible before braving Wolf territory?

But before he could come to a decision, he heard the shrill scream of a little girl – Ember!

* * *

><p>Leaving Archie's office the next day, Paige wasn't sure if she felt better or worse. Archie had, like before, refused to offer his own opinion on what Paige should do. He just kept telling her that only she could make this choice. She knew that, but she wanted as much advice as possible. Because she was realizing that she was entirely too close to the situation to consider it logically. Her emotions kept getting in the way.<p>

She saw an odd trio leaving Granny's – Gold, Belle, and… Regina? Why would the three of them be together? Then she noticed Belle's body language, and the way her eyes kept nervously flashing toward Regina before she tried to pretend she wasn't looking at the former mayor. Gold seemed tense and worried, and Regina looked almost… scared. Paige doubted most people would use that word for Regina, but she could tell that something had frightened the woman.

Walking slowly, Paige watched them. Regina pulled out her cell phone and made a call. Paige was too far away to hear anything, so she didn't know who might be on the other end. While Regina was distracted, Belle put her hand on Gold's arm and said something to him, every line of her body conveying an urgency to be away from whatever was happening.

Gold turned to Belle, his face tender. He stroked her cheek gently and murmured something to her, which made Regina roll her eyes. Belle managed to walk almost sedately away, in the direction of her library. Gold made for his shop, Regina tagging along and speaking urgently into the phone. Just before Paige lost sight of them, Regina went a different direction. Paige wondered where she could be going.

On a whim, Paige went to the library. She walked fast enough that she made it just as Belle was struggling with the key, her nervousness making her clumsy. Paige smiled at Belle, then put her hand on Belle's arm as the lock finally clicked open, letting her concern show on her face.

"Please," Belle said, motioning Paige to follow her into the building, "come in." As she made her way to the light switches, she added, "I'm actually glad you're here. I, ah, don't really want to be alone right now."

Paige had already gotten out her notebook. She wrote, then handed it to Belle as light flooded the library.

Belle gave a ghost of a fond smile. "I was actually just with him. We, ah, we had hamburgers together. But… something important came up, and I... um, I didn't want to be in his way."

Taking the notebook back, Paige wrote that she hoped everything was okay.

"Me, too," Belle said, but she seemed reluctant to discuss it. So Paige wrote a much longer note, confessing that she had seen Belle and Gold leaving Granny's. She told Belle that she had seen that tender, loving look on his face. At the end of the note, she thanked Belle.

"For what?" Belle asked, confused. When Paige handed the notebook back with a reply, Belle repeated part of what was written as a question. "For the way he looks at me? Why should that matter to you – oh!" Suddenly, it all seemed clear to Belle. She stared at Paige in horror. "You're… you're _her_. The one carrying Rumpelstiltskin's child. You… you lied to me?"

Paige shook her head emphatically. She wrote that she hadn't realized at first that Belle didn't know the whole truth, and that she was sorry Belle had been kept in the dark.

"That doesn't change anything. You should have told me!" Belle felt almost sick to her stomach. "All that time we were discussing poetry, and you were just laughing at me, weren't you? Because you've had something from him that I haven't!"

Her mouth dropping open, Paige tried to write neatly, but she was also writing as fast as she could, trying to explain that it wasn't like that. When she realized Belle didn't know, she had thought that she could get to know Belle, to see if Belle would be good for Mr. Gold. She added at the end that the look on his face today had proven that they were well-matched. Belle brought out a goodness in him that Paige hadn't been able to see until after the Curse was broken.

"I… I don't care _what_ you think," Belle said, nearly crying now. "Please, just leave."

Paige raised a hand toward Belle in a pleading gesture.

"_Go_," Belle said, almost shouting it.

Her heart sinking, Paige left.

* * *

><p>Felix and his men had thrown caution to the wind. As they came closer to their own camp, they could tell that the screams were coming from beyond the latrine pit they had dug, a small distance outside the make-shift palisade.<p>

When they burst into a clearing, Felix saw the six men who had been assigned to Ember. Four of them were on the ground bleeding, but trying to pull themselves painfully toward the little girl. One man stared sightlessly at the sky. The sixth man was still fighting the grizzled Wolf, and at his side was another man.

Almost before he could take all of this in, Felix saw several other men burst in from the far side of the clearing. Felix's man flew through the air as the Wolf bashed him with a huge paw, and the stranger stared after him, only for a split second. But that was too long. The Wolf's claws raked the stranger's stomach, and things began to spill out that should never, ever come out of a man's body.

The men on the far side of the clearing rushed toward the Wolf, as did Felix's men, but Felix was searching for a much smaller figure. At first he couldn't find Ember, but as the stranger fell, Felix saw her. The strange man had hidden her between the huge roots of a gnarled old tree and stood in front of her, so the Wolf could not get her.

When the Wolf saw all the other men rushing at it, it turned and ran away, bleeding from where someone's sword had lopped off the tip of its left ear.

Among the strange men were two boys – one about fourteen, and one about Robert's age. They ran to the stranger, reaching him just before Felix scooped up his daughter.

"Father!" the younger boy cried, tears flowing.

"Please, Father," the older boy wept. "Don't leave us! I am too young, I cannot rule!"

The men with them were trying to stanch the blood, but by their grim faces, they already knew they could not save their king. Felix felt his stomach drop. They could not discover his true identity. He prayed Ember said nothing to give it away, but for now, she was weeping piteously against his chest. He caught the dying man's eyes.

"Thank you," Felix said hoarsely. "I'm… I'm so sorry this happened, but… thank you!"

The man nodded and turned back to his sons. "You will be… a great king, Tristan," he croaked. "And Andrew… can lead your… brother's armies." He coughed up blood. "I am… so proud of… you both." The king died, with a smile on his face as he regarded his sons for the last time.

Suddenly, Robert was there. Looking up, Felix saw that the knights assigned to his son were gathered around, as well. "We watched from the woods, um, sir. We wanted to help, but we knew you wouldn't want your son in danger, too." The knight then realized he might have said too much, but instead of trying to correct it, he simply shut his mouth.

His arms around his sister, and his father's arms around both of them, Robert looked at the two other boys. The older one was staring in the direction the Wolf had gone, tears running down his cheeks as he swore to one day avenge his father. The younger boy had tears on his face, but his eyes were now dry and hollow. He was staring at his father's body, but he looked up, meeting Robert's eyes. But Robert doubted the boy even saw him with that hollow gaze.

"Please, Father," Robert said softly, "let's go back home and never do this again."

"Don't worry, my son," Felix said, releasing his children so he could stand. "That's exactly what we'll do."

* * *

><p>Paige sat at her spinning wheel. She had done this enough that she no longer had to concentrate as hard, so she was able to think about what Mike had said the day before. He was right about one thing – if she married Ed just to allow her daughter the right to rule, she probably would end up hating the young man. Especially if she did it purely out of necessity.<p>

But at the same time, how could she let her heart lead her astray again? How could she believe herself worthy of the throne if she did that? How could her _subjects_ believe her worthy?

She stopped spinning. Why was this so hard? Her basement, which was a finished one, was divided into two rooms, with a simple archway connecting the two. She moved into the other room in the basement, which was now set up as her new guest room. The nursery furniture Mr. Gold had promised would be ready in a week or so, and to get ready, Dr. Horne and Ed Grove had moved the guest room furniture down to the front basement room.

She lay down across the bed, crying nearly silently. Even though she wasn't close to Belle, the hurt and betrayal in the young woman's eyes had stung Paige deeply. She had lost Ruby over this, the Blues didn't approve of Gold's daughter taking the throne, Dr. Horne advised against it, and Mike had refused to marry her before the child was born. Ed was willing – no, eager, to marry her and allow her daughter the right to rule, but her own heart counseled against that, and so did Mike. Of course, Mike's motives were mainly selfish, but then again, it was selfishness that made her heart ache at the thought of marrying a man she did not love.

She couldn't do this. This was just too much for one person. Or, well, two, technically speaking. She had both Paige _and_ Eliza in her head. But she sat up suddenly, realizing that she didn't have to.

* * *

><p>From beneath a large bush, Paige stared at the people patrolling the town line. They were here to keep people from doing exactly what she intended, but they weren't really expecting anyone to actually try, so they were rather lax in their patrols. She saw her chance, and she burst out, running. She was able to do it very quietly because of her fairy ancestry, so she knew they wouldn't realize until it was too late. But at the last second, she stopped dead, skidding a bit. She took a deep, almost sobbing breath, and she knew she couldn't do this. Oblivion was <em>so<em> close, the sweetness of only one life in her head. But she couldn't make herself cross, and it wasn't because of her brothers. She knew, deep down, that this was wrong. She couldn't just run from her problems.

"Paige!" a voice yelled. But Paige didn't acknowledge it in any way. She sank to her knees, crying. "Paige," the voice said, behind her now. "You can't, you'll forget your true self!"

Paige turned and flung herself into Fawn's arms. Even though she had spent some time at Andrew's castle, she didn't feel as if she'd really gotten to know Ayala, but she did know that Tristan's queen, who was known as Fawn in this world, would comfort her without demanding explanations right away. And Fawn did just that, holding Paige tightly and stroking her hair. The odd thing was that Fawn didn't speak to her or shush her at all, she just sat there, silent. But then again, Fawn wasn't human.

There were other voices, but Fawn spoke to them, reassuring them. After Paige had cried herself out, Fawn helped her stand and led her to the car.

Fawn made a quick call after she shut the passenger door of her car. Paige seemed listless, but Fawn kept an eye on her just in case. "Noah," she said softly when her husband answered. "There's a problem at the border. Paige – your brother's fiancée? She tried to cross." After listening for a moment, she said, "I know, me too. But Noah, she's pregnant. And I'm not sure," she added hesitantly, "but I don't think it's Mike's child." She paused, but her husband didn't seem to know what to say, so she asked, "Can you see if Vicki can watch Will for an hour or two? I'm bringing Paige to the house." She listened again and smiled warmly. "Great, thank you. As soon as someone arrives to replace me, we'll head over." She paused for a moment. "I love you, too," she replied before hanging up the phone.

When she turned around, Mark was walking over to her. "Hey," he said. "They said you needed to leave early?"

"Yes, thank you so much," Fawn answered. She knew he was curious, so she said, "It's a family thing that just came up."

"Oh, well, I hope everything's alright," Mark said politely. He did a double-take as he recognized Paige. "Hey – that's Mike's girlfriend! She's… family?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Fawn replied, sounding surprised. "Mike is my husband's brother."

"Mike and I were… friends here, in Storybrooke," Mark said slowly. "But… in both worlds, his father died to save my little sister's life." He made a face. "Well, I guess she was never _really_ my sister." At Fawn's questioning glance, he added, "I was… switched at birth, and no one knew, except the mothers of the two children."

"Oh," Fawn said. "I imagine that must have been difficult to come to terms with."

Mark gave a wry chuckle. "I still haven't," he replied. "Especially now that Sammi found – oh, but that's all pretty complicated, and I'm sure you want to get Paige home. Sorry, didn't mean to unburden on you."

Fawn smiled kindly at Mark. "Not to worry. We all need to talk sometimes. Perhaps, if you still need someone to listen, we can get together another time." Then something occurred to her. "However, I am a Golden Hind, not a human, and that does make some people uncomfortable." He looked surprised, and Fawn added, "I thought you should know."

"Wow," Mark said. "Um, that's – wait, this all means that your husband is Tristan, king of the Wolfsbane Kingdom, right?"

Fawn nodded, saying, "That is correct."

"So that makes Paige… the Blueberry princess." Mark looked thoughtful, almost distant.

"Indeed," Fawn remarked, not sure what else to say. She could tell this news had impacted him powerfully, but she wasn't sure why. And she wanted to take Paige home and find out what was wrong, because she knew that Eliza would never have done something so drastic. "I should be going now," she said gently. "Remember, I don't mind listening if you need someone."

Mark nodded, and she took that as a farewell. Fawn got into the car and put on her seatbelt. She had to remind Paige to do the same before she put the car in gear.

* * *

><p>Felix had spoken to the men, and to his children. Fortunately, only the one man had actually died, but five others were coming home injured. After discovering that the men had felt it inappropriate to watch the little girl while she used the latrine, and that she had obviously slipped away while they weren't looking, he hadn't the heart to upbraid them. Instead, he commended their bravery in her defense. It was not their fault; it was not really anyone's fault. But they would have to tell the people something. More, they would have to tell Dorcas something. So Felix asked everyone not to mention the strangers who had been there. The knights agreed to heed his request, but Robert had to be convinced.<p>

"But Father, he _died_. And he did so for Ember, who was a stranger to him!" Robert seemed aghast at not crediting the man with saving his sister.

"He was a good man," Felix agreed. "But son, he was the _king_ of the Wolfsbane kingdom! If the truth gets out, if his people learn that we were the ones involved, they might believe it a plot of ours to kill their king."

"We had no such plot!" the boy said firmly, but then his brow wrinkled. His voice was hesitant as he asked, "Did we, Father?"

"Of course not!" Felix asserted. "We do not even have our own kingdom's throne yet! It would make no sense to assassinate any other leader. It is certainly not to our benefit. I can only hope those boys have good advisors. Their kingdom defends us all from the Wolfs. Killing their king would not be beneficial at all."

"Oh," Robert said softly. "So who do we say saved her?"

"We shall give the credit to the efforts of the six knights who protected her," Felix said.

"And especially the one who died?" the boy asked.

Felix smiled. "That's right, son," he said. "Especially him."

* * *

><p>Noah paced his living room. "Something's not right here," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. Fawn looked at him reproachfully. He wasn't being much help, and she didn't know most humans very well.<p>

Paige wrote in her notebook, explaining that she had realized at the last minute that she could never have actually crossed that line.

Fawn smiled gently. "I already knew that about you, someday-sister," she said. At Paige's confused look, she explained. "Someday you will marry Andrew, and he is as a brother to me, so someday you and I will be sisters of a sort," she said.

Fawn read Paige's next note. "I believe you _will_ marry him," she replied. "You are a young woman who lives by her heart, and that is a beautiful thing. You make sacrifices out of love, not necessity, and this other man you speak of marrying would be of the latter kind."

Taking the notebook back, Paige wrote again.

"Yes, it would _seem_ like love was driving you to this other marriage, but there are other, better ways to prove that you love your daughter." Fawn looked at Noah again, trying to get him to come over and help her explain to Paige, but Noah was agitated by something.

But suddenly, he did come over and sat down facing Paige. "Look, this law – you've got it all wrong," he said. "The law was meant to ensure that a child would be raised in a loving home, by two parents, but sometimes life doesn't work out that way. All rules, all laws, have some exception. Some… loophole. According to this law, what would happen if a ruling queen married and became pregnant, only to have her husband die before the child was born? That should not affect the child's right to rule, should it? That queen would have _meant_ to bear the child in wedlock. So why should you have to marry just for the sake of being married? From what you told me of the law's history, this is supposed to be about a loving home. A single parent _can_ provide that if it becomes necessary, and no one should be forced to remarry while grieving simply because of some law." He clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated. "I _know_ that's not the case here, but what I'm saying is, you should be able to marry someone you actually love without giving up your daughter's future. Please, talk to your advisors, find that loophole. It _has_ to be there. And if it's not, maybe you can _make_ one."

Paige swallowed hard. Could he be right? Could there be some kind exception that would give her everything she wanted? But what would Mike do if she married him only to deny his child the right to rule?

Before she could ask that question, the doorbell rang. At the same time, the door burst open and little Will came barreling in, singing a nonsense song about playing at Vicki's house. Fawn narrowly dodged him, smiling at Vicki.

"Sorry," Vicki said, "I knew there was some kind of trouble, but I just couldn't keep ahold of him." She shifted the baby on her hip. Her own son was only sixteen months old.

"He's getting so big," Fawn remarked, looking at the baby. "And don't worry about Will barging in like that. It's just… Mike's fiancée has been having a rough time lately, and she just needed to talk. Well, sort of. She's, ah, mute, right now."

"Oh," Vicki said, startled. "You mean Paige? She comes to one of my classes at the gym! Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes, she's just rather upset over some things that have come to light recently. And being pregnant, well, you know how it is," Fawn said, smiling.

"Yeah," Vicki replied knowingly. "Everything seems so much worse with all those hormones going crazy." She smiled back at Fawn. "Well, I hope everything turns out alright for her."

"I'm sure it will," Fawn said.

"Well, this one's getting hungry," Vicki joked as her son fussed quietly. "I'd better get him home and feed him. Take care!"

"You, too, Vicki!" Fawn closed the door and went back into the living room. Will was chattering away happily at Paige, and she was smiling at him. She seemed much less depressed now, and Fawn hoped the girl did find that loophole Noah had spoken of.

* * *

><p>Gold stared down at David's unresponsive form. Henry was anxious. "Come on. Come back," the boy murmured to David. Then Henry turned to Regina and asked, "Should he be in there so long?"<p>

Swallowing, Gold didn't really pay attention to the comforting words Regina spouted, but when she looked at him, the question heavy in her eyes, he gave a small shake of his head. If David were coming back, he should have done so by now. Had the prince been unable to find the room with all the flames? Perhaps that room couldn't even be entered until the person had already been woken from the sleeping curse. But if that were the case, then Emma and Mary Margaret didn't stand a chance.

He watched closely, hoping for any change that might tell him what was going on in the netherworld. But a part of his mind was racing. He couldn't let Cora win. Not now, not with Belle back in his life. He would do whatever he must to keep Cora from ever finding out about Belle. Even if that meant doing something that Belle would disapprove of.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Into the Deep."

I have put up a poll for this story - it can be accessed from my profile. However, you do have to be a registered user to vote in the poll. The question is whether or not Eliza/Paige's daughter should be allowed the chance to prove her worth as a potential heir to the Blueberry throne, so if you're not a registered user on this site, feel free to leave a review with your opinion (or if you're a registered user who simply wants to voice any reasonings/thoughts/etc you may have on the matter!)

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please, please, PLEASE review!


	30. S2 Ch9 - Inheritance

Sorry this took so long! I had what the doctor called a "muscle spasm" in my lower back. Now to me, the word "spasm" sounds sudden. As in, it should clench and tighten up, and then also loosen and release pretty quickly. And while it came on quite suddenly, it certainly didn't go away in any hurry! I spent about 1 1/2 to 2 weeks not able to sit in my computer chair for any length of time. Then, just as my back was getting better, I got the flu! Fortunately, it was kind of mild for the flu. But I'm feeling better now, and here's the next installment of my story!

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In Storybrooke, Paige has finally accepted her lust for Mr. Gold, but now Belle has come back into his life, and Paige would never do anything to ruin his chance at true love. During their last encounter, in one of the dream sessions Gold has been drawing Paige into, they agreed that it would be the last time they have sex. Afterward, Gold gives Paige a silver key that will enable her to control her dreams, to an extent. He explains that it will be much like lucid dreaming, but that the reactions of any person she dreams about will come from her own mind, and not necessarily be a true reaction.

Mr. Gold has told Belle that he had a sexual relationship with another woman, and that the other woman is pregnant, but he didn't tell her who it was. But when Paige thanks Belle for how happy she makes Mr. Gold, Belle figures out that it was Paige, and feels betrayed.

It has also been revealed that, in Storybrooke, Sammi's parents died when she was 16, and to keep out of the foster care system, she got some help from Mr. Gold to legally emancipate herself, but the details of the Curse's version of events are unknown, as is whatever price Sammi (known as Norah in the Enchanted Forest) was required to pay.

~In the Enchanted Forest, there is a kingdom between the Blueberry and Wolfsbane kingdoms, and that kingdom is in the midst of turmoil. The royal line seemed to have died out, but a young man named Felix is a direct descendant of the kingdom's most beloved king of the past, Rolph. Felix makes a deal with Rumpelstiltskin in exchange for the proof of his lineage, but the price is left unpaid. Felix doesn't like the idea of being indebted to the impish little man, but he will soon lose his farm, and his wife is about to give birth, so he reluctantly agrees.

But his proof arrives at the moment his wife gives birth. While he steps outside to greet the people who have discovered his heritage, his wife is distraught that she has borne him a mere daughter. So without her husband's knowledge, she switches with another woman who gave birth at nearly the same time, thus giving her husband a son, and potential heir to the throne. The girl, Norah – the true heir to Rolph's line – is raised as the daughter of two loving farmers. When she was a child, she unknowingly met Rumpelstiltskin, who promised to one day return and make her dreams come true. When she asked his name, he told her that when they met again, she would know who he was…

* * *

><p>Felix looked up at the shop, a huge lump in his throat. He hadn't seen the old storefront since just before his 19th birthday, when he sold it after his father died. It had only been about seven months later that his whole life had changed – for the better.<p>

His son, Robert, was 16 – in two short years, he would be a man, old enough to take the throne if need be, although there wasn't yet a throne for him to take. It was turning out to be very slow going, proving to the other factions that Felix was Rolph's heir, and therefore the rightful king. His support was growing, but Felix doubted that he would be able to secure the throne by the time Robert came of age.

He almost wished Robert was with him, so he could show his son where he, Felix, had come from. But Felix and his family had recently moved into the old fortress, and Robert wanted to stay and help Dorcas and Ember settle in. Felix also suspected the boy wanted to explore every inch of that fortress, to find ways he could sneak out whenever he took it into his head to run off for awhile. The boy had started doing that when he was eight, and Felix kept hoping his son would grow out of it.

But he shook his head, grinning ruefully. He couldn't just stand here and stare at the shop like an idiot. He'd certainly never get anywhere that way, and he still had a long afternoon's ride ahead of him if he wanted to reach the next lord's manor before supper. A messenger had been sent ahead to announce him, and these self-titled "Lords of the Land" weren't always thrilled by the idea that a king might emerge. Some of these men would look for any excuse to keep their currently-unchallenged power, so it would not do to make them wait, not at this juncture.

Inside, he immediately spotted a difference – the wall behind the counter, which had always seemed somehow thicker than the other walls when he was a child, had been changed. It must truly _have_ been thicker, because from just above the level of the counter on up, the part facing into the shop had been cut away and shelves put in, to display products that might "walk away" if left out where customers could pocket them discreetly.

"Good morrow, sir," said a friendly, male voice. Along the side of the counter, a young man, perhaps five or six years older than Robert, stepped through the doorway that led into the house. The young man continued, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, I had a few questions for you," Felix replied. "About… about the store itself."

"Please, ask away," the young man said.

"First of all, how long have you lived here?" Felix asked.

"Oh, a long time. I was young when we moved here. It's been, maybe, sixteen years? Or perhaps seventeen. I could ask my father, if you'd like, sir."

Felix swallowed. "Young Morris? Is… is that you?"

The young man looked startled. "Why, yes, but… how did you know?"

"I'm the man who sold this place to your parents," Felix said, smiling broadly. "You were, what, five then?"

After a moment, recognition dawned in the young man's eyes. "You gave me a toy horse! I remember, you… you looked so sad, but kind, when you gave it to me."

Felix swallowed. "I had just lost my father and my uncle, and my mother was dying, as well. Selling my parents' business was not an easy thing for me, but seeing you reminded me that my wife was with child. I remember hoping that I would have a son just like you."

"I'm sorry, I never knew why you were so sad," Morris said, his face compassionate. "But… well, did you? Have a son, I mean."

Felix smiled broadly. "Yes. Robert," he replied, his pride obvious. "And certain family documents came to light, proving –"

Another man chivvied Morris through the door, saying, "What do you mean by loafing in the doorway, son? Not daydreaming, I hope!"

"No, Father," the young man said, smiling. "You'll never guess who this is!"

But with one look, Morris's father knew exactly who it was. "Felix! Or should I call you Lord Felix now? Or, perhaps, Your Majesty?"

Felix ducked his head modestly. "You needn't, Alec. I am still trying to gather enough support to take the throne, and I just stopped by here to reminisce for a short time." He looked around and sighed. "I grew up in this shop!" His eyes caught that new set of shelves again. "You know, I like what you've done with that wall."

Alec gave an amused snort. "I was _this_ close to buying a bulky set of shelves to mount on that wall," he said, holding his forefinger almost against his thumb to demonstrate just how close he had been. "In fact, my boy and I were discussing it here in the shop one day. Didn't like the carpenter's price, you know. Well, this strange little fellow who was shopping overheard, and pointed out how wide the doorframe set into that wall was, said as to how he thought perhaps that wall was overly thick for an interior wall. Suggested we simply cut a hole from this side and make the shelves right inside that wall. He seemed to think the carpenter would charge less for that, too. Which he did, he did. Much less." Alec's face grew thoughtful. "You know, that little man never _did_ buy anything."

"Father," said Morris, having just remembered something. "What about that strange bag we found inside the wall? Maybe it belongs to him," he said, indicating Felix.

Something tickled at the edges of Felix's mind. A bag?

* * *

><p>Carrying her groceries home, Paige couldn't stop thinking of what Noah had said about a loophole, but every time hope started to swell, it crashed down again, sickeningly, as she considered how much the idea would upset Mike. He had made it clear that he preferred the idea of his own child on the throne. She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize there was anyone nearby until a raised voice caught her attention.<p>

"If you call me Goldilocks again, you'll regret it!" It was Matilda, Mike's friend. Paige blinked back tears as she recalled the day everyone had tried to leave Storybrooke, when Matilda came along in the truck she used for her business, rushing toward the town line with Mike, who was terrified that Paige was trying to leave, too. He had been so sweet and tender, cuddling with her in the truck. She knew that Mike still loved her, but could he make his peace with the choices Paige had made?

"Sorry," said the man Matilda was addressing. He was young, and his attitude made it clear that he was well aware of how good-looking he was. He didn't sound very sorry, though.

"Goldilocks is dead. I thought I proved that in the world that was, when I kicked your sorry ass," Matilda said, her fists tightening. "I'm not her anymore, and I never will be again. You got that, Arthur?"

"Yeah, sure, Mat," he replied lazily.

Matilda knew he wasn't taking her seriously. "Look, _I_ killed the Red Death. So you might want to think twice about pissing me off."

Art's eyes widened. "The… the _Red Death_?" he asked, incredulous and impressed all at once.

"That's right. The Red Death died by _my_ axe. So do _not_ piss me off again. This is your last warning." She turned and stalked toward Paige, leaving Art standing there, his mouth still gaping. He stared after Matilda and mouthed the words "the Red Death" before stumbling toward Granny's.

"Hey, um, Paige, right?" Matilda said, seeing Paige with her groceries. When Paige nodded, Matilda added, "Here, let me carry that stuff for you." She suited action to words, taking Paige's grocery bags while eyeing her growing stomach. "Mike didn't come with to carry for you? Not much of a gentleman, huh?" She smiled wryly, to show that it was at least partially meant as a joke.

Paige tried to smile back, but it was sad and wistful. She pulled out the notepad and pen she always kept in her purse and wrote a short note explaining that Mike was trying to decide if he wanted to act as the father to another man's child.

"I… I see. So, um, if it's not too personal a question, who _is_ the father?" Matilda had a feeling this was something she didn't want to know, and Paige's next answer proved her right. "Gold?! Really?" She swallowed hard, not wanting to be rude, but shocked at this confession. "I mean, well, _why_?"

This prompted a longer note, explaining the swan spell on Eliza's brothers, and how this was a side-effect of paying Rumpelstiltskin's price. Paige also noted at the end that, over time, she had come to know Gold, and realized that he is not as horrible a man as everyone else thought.

"So… Mr. Gold is your baby daddy, and you, what, _like_ him?" Matilda made a face. "Seriously?"

Paige's lips thinned in irritation as she wrote another note. She was getting so sick of people reacting this way. Why was it so shocking that Gold might actually be a decent person underneath it all?

"You… respect him," Matilda murmured as she read Paige's note. "Right. And uh, maybe none of my business, but… well, Mike once told me he was jealous of the fact you were sleeping with another man. Was… was that Gold, too?"

Paige simply nodded, looking almost defiant.

Matilda swallowed hard, and almost managed to suppress a shudder. "You _do_ know he's the Dark One, right?" When Paige pressed her lips together and started to write another note, Matilda held up a hand. "Okay, just… making sure. It's just so… I don't know, unexpected, I guess." She was silent for a moment, but she couldn't help bursting out, "And his age doesn't bother you, either? I mean, Rumpelstiltskin's been the Dark One for… probably a couple hundred years, maybe more. That's… pretty old."

It was such an unexpected question that Paige let out a nearly silent snort, and when Matilda glanced at her face, she could tell that Paige was amused, not angry. Paige was writing in her notebook.

After reading the note, Matilda asked, "What do you mean, less shallow? Because of your weight?" Paige nodded, and Matilda continued. "You look fine to me. You've been reading too many of this world's crappy magazines, Paige." She gave a small laugh. "Besides, Andrew – Mike, whatever. He loved you back in our world, and he still does here, even if he _is_ being an ass. Anyway, my point is, it's not just age that makes a man less shallow. It depends on how good a person he is."

Paige smiled as she wrote her next note, but reading it made Matilda stop walking for a second. Stepping forward again, she gave a mirthless laugh and said, "You're right. Man, I walked right into that one, didn't I?" She sighed. "Okay, fine. Gold _might_ not be the monster everyone thinks he is, alright? I will admit that he _might_ be an okay guy after all, for someone who got to know him, but that's all you're getting from me. _I _don't want to get to know him, and I still think it's gross that you slept with him. Especially _after_ you paid your price."

Smiling, Paige wrote another short note.

Matilda smiled, too, when she read it. "Works for me. We'll just agree to disagree, and enough said." They walked along in silence for a moment, then Matilda said, "Did Mike ever tell you how he met me?" Paige shook her head, and Matilda said, "Well, it's kind of a long story – see, it involves my background, which is kind of… well, awful, but it won't make sense if I don't start at the beginning."

Looking serious, Paige wrote another note.

"Nah, that's okay," Matilda replied. "I don't mind telling you. I mean, I don't think it'll ever stop hurting to remember the past, but telling someone seems – I don't know, therapeutic or something. It sucks, what happened to me, but I can't just keep it all inside, you know? 'Cause that sucks worse. I mean, as long you don't mind listening."

Paige wrote another note saying that she didn't mind at all, and that she had just wanted to make sure Matilda knew that she didn't have to relive anything painful if she didn't want to, not for Paige's sake.

Matilda smiled at Paige. "Well, the thing is, I consider Andrew a good friend, and if he can get his act together and marry you like he should, I would want to be friends with you, too. So I figure, why not start now?"

Her eyes tearing up, Paige smiled back.

* * *

><p>The bag Alec brought out of the back looked old, but in good condition. It was the kind of bag that is often referred to as a carpet bag, and its color was a dark, yellow-ish brown. A closer look revealed that the material was embroidered in a cross-hatch pattern, looking like so many letter Xs all over the bag. Felix had never seen it before.<p>

"We can't even open it," Morris said, his obvious excitement making him seem younger than his twenty-one years.

That's what sparked Felix's memory. "Grandpa told me stories about this bag," he said wonderingly. "He said his father's father had hidden it away, so it couldn't be used for frivolous purposes. He said… he said it was magic, and that whoever owned the bag could reach in and pull out whatever he needed! But there were limits. Grandpa didn't seem to really know what they were, but he said this bag had been the gift of a fairy to the heir of our family. It will only open for its proper owner." He managed to hold back the last part of his realization. When the documents proving his lineage had come to light, they had stated that Fiero's younger son, Felix's ancestor, had married a fairy! So this bag had probably been a gift from mother to son!

"So… does that mean _you_ can open it?" Morris was drinking it all in, and his eyes were as wide as any youth hearing some fabulous tale of fairies and magic.

Felix grinned and slid the bag across the counter, closer to himself. "Just watch," he said, almost arrogantly. But try as he would, the bag would not yield. Frustrated, he pulled harder. Any ordinary bag must surely have ripped or broken under such pressure, but not this bag. It sat there as pristine as it had been when Alec brought it out, and to Felix's eyes, it almost had a smugness about it.

Suddenly, Felix laughed aloud. The sound startled both Alec and Morris, who had nearly been holding their breath as they watched.

"The bag was given to the _heir_ of the family," Felix said. "So it belongs to my son, now, not to me!"

"No wonder it wouldn't open for you," Morris said, never noticing the irritation that flashed over Felix's face. Felix took care to smooth it away as quickly as possible. He didn't want to offend these two, not after they had returned something that had been his favorite family legend as a boy. Well, his favorite until he met his Uncle Damian, anyway.

* * *

><p>Sitting on the edge of her bed, Paige fingered the heavy little box nervously. She hadn't used this key yet, but tonight she wanted more than just her vibrator. Even though it wouldn't be real, she wanted to see Mr. Gold above her, to feel his hands on her body. She licked her lips and slowly opened the box.<p>

After she slipped the key under her pillow, Paige turned out the light and lay down. For what seemed like an eternity, she just lay there, unable to sleep. She shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.

The next thing she knew, she was in Mr. Gold's house. She was standing outside his bedroom door. "Paige, could you come here, please?" he called.

Paige watched herself emerge from what had been her own room in this house, which seemed like so long ago. She knew it hadn't actually happened, knew that in reality, she had been living in the duplex, next door to Mike, all along. But this memory she was dreaming of wasn't given to her by the Curse. This was actually from just a month or so after the Curse had been cast, although her Curse-memories made it seem like a more recent event in her false, Storybrooke history.

Regardless of when it actually happened, this was a memory of a night she had spent with Gold when Mike had to work overnight at the grocery store. She couldn't remember why, but for whatever reason, he was going to be at the store all night. Since the Curse had established that, as a ward of the city, she needed a guardian nearby at all times, it meant spending the night with Gold.

She watched herself walk into Mr. Gold's bedroom. She followed, wondering if she should switch perspectives and actually relive the memory, but then she decided to just watch for the moment.

"Such a lovely young woman," Gold remarked, almost as if to himself. He cupped Paige's cheek with one hand, then trailed that hand down her neck, across her shoulder, and down her arm. His hand was curled, so that his fingertips brushed down the back of her arm, which was bare since she was wearing a tank top. Paige watched herself shiver and gasp softly at that touch. Gold smirked. Ah, she remembered that smirk! At the time, she wasn't sure if she hated it or was frightened by it, but now she felt a sort of fondness.

"Did that feel good, dear?" Gold asked. The look in his eyes made his intentions clear, and Paige watched herself nod hesitantly, trying to shrink back from that meaningful gaze.

But he put his hands on her hips, holding her where she was. Paige watched, anticipating, as he stepped closer to her former self and kissed her. She remembered that kiss. She had just stood there, stunned. She knew who he was, and that she could not speak ill of him, but at that point in time, she wasn't sure that he knew. That kiss marked the moment when she had decided that she would have to act as if she was sure he remembered their true past, because if he did, she didn't want him knowing that _she_ remembered.

He pulled back and took her chin in his hand. "Paige," he said sternly, "you _will_ respond when I kiss you, or I'll have to punish you. Do you understand me?"

At the time, Paige had wondered what he could possibly do that would be worse than what she knew he was about to do to her, but she nodded hurriedly. If there _were_ something worse, he would find it.

Watching her former self's discomfort as Gold kissed her again, Paige smiled, shaking her head. She sometimes forgot how much she had fought against this in the beginning!

Almost before he stopped kissing her, Gold pulled Paige's tank top up over her head, exposing her breasts. She had been preparing for bed when he called her in. It was a thin pajama top, and she couldn't imagine what had possessed her to wear it at Gold's house. Although she hadn't put it on until she was about to actually get into bed, and she had not intended for him to even see it.

Paige blinked. She didn't want to get lost in thought now. She didn't want to miss this. Gold was massaging Paige's breasts. She saw the look on her face as her former self watched his hands gently kneading, and she finally saw what he had seen all along. Despite the obvious discomfort on her face, there was a longing, a need in her eyes. Each frightened glance she stole at his face also carried a hint of yearning. She had never known that before.

She watched her mouth fall open in a nearly silent gasp as he pinched her nipples. At this point in time, he was still learning her body, so he started gently, gauging her reaction as he increased the pressure. Her former self writhed under his hands, and she remembered thinking that she was trying to get away, or at least to make it more difficult for him to get a good grip, but as she watched it now, she realized that she had been writhing in pleasure.

Gold laid Paige down on the bed and stripped off her pajama pants and panties. Her breath came in quiet gasps that she had once told herself came from fear, but she knew better now. He spread her legs with his hands and lowered his mouth between them. Paige remembered feeling his tongue, remembered how shocked she had been that it actually felt good. She had argued with herself, desperate to believe that she didn't want this. This time, his face was clean-shaven. She recalled the bristly sensation of his stubble in the Enchanted Forest, when she paid her price for his help.

Suddenly, she was there! She saw Eliza chained to the great nails, naked on the forest floor. Rumpelstiltskin was biting her thigh, his stubbled cheek pressed against her most intimate parts. Paige watched, caught between horror and fascination, as the imp covered her body in bites, some of them deep enough to bleed a little.

She licked her lips, and Rumpelstiltskin glanced up, caught her eye. Releasing the flesh his teeth were sunk into, he smirked up at her. "You like this, don't you dearie?" His tone was almost arrogant.

"I like _some_ biting," Paige answered, "but not that hard. That is _way_ too hard."

"Well, you're certainly turned on right now," he taunted.

"Only by the gentler bites," she said. For a long moment, he just smirked at her, and eventually she could take the silence no longer. "Why did you do it? Bite that hard? Did you get off on it? Is that how you like it?"

With a smug look on his face, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Oh, I just got a bit… carried away, there, dearie. So sorry."

"You don't sound sorry at all," Paige said accusingly.

"Tsk, tsk, dearie! I thought I warned you of this," he said teasingly. Putting a hand on his chest and striking a pose as he stood up, he said, "_I_ am but a figment of your mind, dearie, and my reactions are _your_ interpretation thereof. Clearly, at least part of you believes I "get off," as you put it, on this sort of thing."

Paige licked her lips. "So then… _did_ you really just get carried away?"

"Well, I'm afraid the only way you'll ever know, dearie, is to ask… the real me!" He said that last bit with a grandiose flourish and a half-bow. Then he glanced back at Eliza, stretched out between the nails. "Now if you don't mind, I've a princess to deflower."

Swallowing, Paige shook her head. She closed her eyes and willed herself back to the memory she'd started with. Clearly this lucid dreaming was going to require practice. It was obvious she didn't have full control yet. She would have to be more careful about random thoughts from now on!

Back in Storybrooke, it didn't seem as if much time had passed while she had been distracted. She saw herself lying on the bed, her hips writhing and her hands gripping the sheets at her sides as Gold's tongue tantalized her. Suddenly, he pulled back. The version of Paige that was lying on the bed gasped, almost louder than she should under the strictures of the counter-spell, and propped herself up on her elbows. She stared down at Mr. Gold, and he smirked.

"Would you like me to stop, now, Paige?" he asked softly, knowing that he had brought her to a point that would leave her aching if she actually did ask him to stop.

Paige swallowed hard. She should nod her head, she should get up and go to bed, alone, but… but instead, she shook her head. Sitting up more, she raised her hands to sign, **Don't stop.** Her hands trembled as she signed, and when he lowered his face, with a smug look in his eyes, she laid back down so she wouldn't have to see it.

The part of Paige that was watching was done. She was ready to feel it, to be in the moment. She concentrated hard, and gasped as she felt his tongue. It had worked. She could still feel both sets of emotions, still hear both her past thoughts and her current ones. Her current self was enjoying this, but her past self was fighting, trying to pretend she hadn't asked for this. She fought against the pressure building in her groin, when suddenly she felt a finger, teasing around her opening. Until now, he had only been using his mouth on her sweet spot.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he worked that finger inside her. He stroked it in and out, in and out, and then added a second finger. It was getting harder for her past self to fight this. Then his fingers curled, groping around inside her, seeking something her past self hadn't known about at the time, when suddenly a certain spot somewhere in there made everything burst. The pressure inside her exploded gloriously, and she could only dimly feel her hips bucking, her back arching. The pleasure left her yearning to cry out, but she managed to keep the sounds minimal.

She didn't know how long it was before she was aware of herself again. Gold was standing by the bed, wiping his face with a handkerchief and smirking at her. Her former self had seen some hint of danger in that look. She had feared that he was deliberately trying to make her break the rules of the counter-spell, to make sure she would belong to him for the rest of her life. But her current self knew better. By now she had seen that look often, and that was simply his own arrogance at being able to give her the pleasure he knew she craved, even though she was fighting it.

When Gold started removing his clothing, Paige swallowed hard. Both of her selves knew what was coming next, but only one of them was able to admit her eagerness for it.

* * *

><p>Norah shivered in spite of the heat from the fire. She couldn't have anyone knowing that she and her parents had been sick – others would refuse to deal with her for a long time, concerned that she still carried the pall of disease with her. But she was convinced that was a mere superstition, begun by some hypochondriac who was afraid of catching disease from his own shadow.<p>

Her face was gaunt and almost expressionless as she watched her parents' bodies burn. She felt as though sorrow was pressing her into the earth, but she could not seem to shed a tear. She had cried often enough when she first started to really recover.

Part of her wondered why the sickness had spared her, but taken her parents. The fevers had been awful, full of delusions of snowstorms and of being lost in the woods. She had often seen a pale, ugly old woman by her bed, but whenever she tried to get a proper look at the scrawny figure, the apparition disappeared, so that had been nothing more than a fever-dream as well.

A low wail started in her throat, growing into a long cry of misery, but her eyes remained dry until the wind whipped some of the smoke into her face. She sank to the ground, and for a long time, knew no more.

* * *

><p>When she came to herself again, the fire had burned out. The ashes of her parents were being mingled together by little breezes, but she didn't mind that. She began to gather the ashes into the urn she'd brought, even though they were still quite warm. One urn, for the both of them. Just as they would have wanted. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back.<p>

She didn't know how long it took her, but finally there seemed to be nothing more she could gather. Backing away a little, she stared at the charred ground, with the dusty-looking urn sitting next to it. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, leaving a sooty mark on her forehead. Her hands were bright pink from the heat of the ashes.

"What am I to do now?" Norah didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until someone answered.

"Well, what do you want to do?" The man who spoke wore an old brown cloak, and the hood was pulled so far forward that she could not see his face.

The sudden question startled her into an automatic answer. "I want to farm for them. To carry on their dream." Because in spite of her daydreams of doing something grand, of having some greater purpose, she knew she had to earn her way in this world. If greatness _was_ in store for her, she would have to wait until the opportunity presented itself. And in the meantime, she needed some means of survival, and this would not only assure that, but would also honor the memory of her parents.

"Then do it," the man said, enunciating a bit strangely. There was an unusual lilt to his voice, as well.

"How can I? Women can't own land. And I don't want to sell the farm." There was just a hint of a wail in her voice.

"Well, there may be a way, but you might not like it," the stranger said, almost maliciously.

"Please, tell me," she said, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt.

"If you don't mind destroying a man's reputation, you _could_ fire the farmhand. Dress as a boy and go to town with documents stating that the self-same farmhand has run off with the daughter, and the parents followed because they're convinced she was… abducted. But they dunnae want their lovely little farm to lie untended, so they've asked you, a wandering youth seeking farm work, to farm the land _for _them until they can return."

"And… when they never return? I mean, won't people start asking questions?" Norah's voice trembled slightly. She hated the thought of ruining poor Brock's reputation, but if this helped her keep the farm…

"Simple," the man said, almost nastily. Even though she couldn't see his expression, she was sure he was sneering at her for being dense, as he must think her. "Put a clause in those documents, whereby after a given time – say, two years – if the farmers have neither returned nor sent word to the mayor of the nearby village, the property will then belong to the young man you are pretending to be!"

Norah felt hope welling inside. "That… that could actually work." Then a problem occurred to her. "But I haven't any clue what official papers would look like, so how can I forge them?" She sighed, and would have said more, but the stranger with the lilting voice interrupted.

"I can give you what you need, dearie," he said. "Just give me a day or so to… get everything ready," he said, sounding amused, "and you shall have your farm."

Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and sauntered down the path around a stand of trees. "Wait," she cried. Without looking back, he merely lifted a hand and waggled his fingers in a gesture of farewell, or perhaps dismissal, and then he was out of sight.

Norah ran to the stand of trees, but the man was nowhere to be seen. "I don't know your name," she said in a soft, confused voice. There was an ache in her chest as she whispered, "Or if you were even real."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Paige was still smiling as she made breakfast. She felt a lot better, having proof that she truly had wanted Gold all along. She had simply been in denial. She wondered if, even then, she had seen something in him, some spark of that goodness she had come to love about him. <em>Had<em> it just been lust that drew them together at first? Did it even matter?

She was trying to make a sort of patty out of her scrambled eggs so she could put it on an English muffin, but the eggs weren't cooperating very well. She supposed it must be the sweet-and-sour sauce she had put into the eggs. She had put it into her scrambled eggs before, but then she had just eaten them off a plate, where it didn't matter if they didn't stick together. The bacon was already fried, the muffin almost done in the toaster, and a slice of cheese was sitting on a plate. Everything was coming together – except those eggs! In a sudden pique of annoyance, Paige turned off the burner and threw the spatula down. It bounced off the stovetop and hit the floor, making Paige even angrier. She kicked it, and when it hit the wall, she noticed the droplets of sweet-and-sour sauce spattered across the floor and on the wall.

With a sigh, she shook her head ruefully. She knew that there was no cause for her outburst. Nothing but those damned pregnancy hormones. She grabbed two paper towels, dampening one at the sink. She turned off the burner under the eggs before getting down on the floor to clean up.

* * *

><p>Felix knew his men would be worried, but he had insisted they wait outside of town. As he walked down the road to where they were waiting with his horse, he stared at the bag in his hands. He was still surprised that this thing was real. He couldn't wait to watch Robert open it and pull out something he needed. Felix wondered what that might be.<p>

A voice startled him – the last voice he wanted to hear. "Ah, the man who would be king!" cried Rumpelstiltskin.

"What do you want?" As soon as he said it, Felix wished he hadn't. That was a foolish question. Rumpelstiltskin was finally here to collect his price. Though Felix knew better, he had started to hope that the imp had forgotten about it. "I didn't bring much gold with me."

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "Well as to that, dearie, I can spin straw… _into_ gold." His voice was derisive. "What need have I of yours?"

Felix felt even more foolish. He knew that, so why had he said such a simple-minded thing? "Then what is it you want?" His irritation at himself made him sound gruff.

Grinning wickedly, Rumpelstiltskin pointed. "That magic bag of yours, dearie."

A thought occurred to Felix. "It was you! You were the "strange little man" who didn't buy anything, who told them to build the shelves into the wall! Aren't you?"

The impish man simply shrugged, with an exaggerated look of innocence on his face. He held out his hand, saying, "Give it here, then. I'm waiting."

But Felix clutched the bag to himself. "It was enchanted by a fairy. It will only open for its rightful owner. Which isn't you."

"Ah, well, you see, if that bag is willingly _given_ away, it becomes the property of whoever receives it," Rumpelstiltskin replied smoothly, a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Felix swallowed. He had only just gotten this back, and to lose it so soon seemed cruel. But then again, he thought darkly, look at who orchestrated the whole thing.

Rumpelstiltskin's face took on a dangerous cast. "You signed a contract, dearie. But if you're not willing to pay the price, I'm afraid I'll have to rake you 'cross the coals."

He didn't have to warn that Felix wouldn't like that. There was an evil, almost eager glint in his eyes, as if he looked forward to the thought of torture. Suddenly terrified, Felix handed over the bag. Tears stood in his eyes as the precious family heirloom was lost to him forever.

"Now get out of my sight, imp. We have no further business, you and I." He almost kept the quaver of tears from his voice, but Rumpelstiltskin wasn't fooled.

"No," the twisted little man mused. "I suppose we don't. Ta ta, then, dearie."

As the tears spilled over, blurring Felix's vision, Rumpelstiltskin was no longer there.

* * *

><p>Paige had been standing across the street from the pawnshop for several minutes before she worked up the courage to go inside. Gold was standing behind one of the counters, examining the display. He looked up when he heard the little bell ring, but when he saw it was Paige, he turned back to his case.<p>

She swallowed and went to stand in front of the case, across from him. He frowned and looked up at her.

**Is… this a bad time?** she signed.

"Well, I suppose that depends," he replied, a bit shortly.

**I just… wanted to ask you something,** she started nervously. **I had a… weird dream last night. About… our deal. In the other world. **Gold was impassive, so Paige plucked up her courage to continue. **I just wanted to know… well, why did you bite me so hard then? Is that… something you enjoy? I mean, you haven't bit me that hard here, even in the dreams where leaving the marks wouldn't matter. And I just… I wanted know.**

Gold gave a snort that was half-amused, half-exasperated. "You came out here… to ask me _that_? After the other day?"

Paige swallowed, her stomach sinking. He _wasn't _in a good mood, and it seemed he was blaming her for it. **I'm… not sure what you –**

Mr. Gold cut her off. "You told Belle. Oh, she knew there had been another woman, and she knew that woman was pregnant, but she didn't know it was you. I… I hadn't told her that part yet. When you came in here with your questions and your brandy, she seemed to really like you, and hoped to be able to get to know you. And then that day you two sat and discussed poetry, it was all she could talk about. I hadn't the heart to tell her it was you. And you waltz in there and tell her!" He wasn't yelling, but his voice was heated.

Paige gave him a look. **So what, she was angry with you, and you're blaming **_**me**_**? When you should have told her yourself?**

He gritted his teeth for a moment before replying. "You're right, Paige. I _should_ have told her, but I didn't know how. And thanks to you, I don't have to figure that out." He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice.

**Look, I'm sorry. I had suspected she didn't know, and I didn't mean for her to figure it out, but… I just wanted to thank her for making you smile the way you did when I saw the two of you together. And she figured it out from there. I'm sorry if she was upset with you, but you should have told her yourself.** Paige rested her hand on Gold's for a moment before continuing. **I really **_**am**_** sorry she found out the way she did.**

Gold swallowed. His voice was a little hoarse as he said, "Thank you for that." He cleared his throat. "I don't imagine you've heard the news yet. Ms. Swann and Miss Blanchard have returned. If you hurry, you might still catch them at the diner." Paige knew he was just trying to change the subject.

**Is everything… alright? **Gold didn't answer, so Paige signed, **Is there anything I can do?**

"Yes, I rather think there is. You can leave. I would prefer that Belle not see you here." He wouldn't look her in the eye, but his face was stern. She could sense that his emotions were jumbled and confused right now, and she knew that, underneath it all, he was hurting. But was he hurting because he felt forced to choose between his friendship with Paige and his love for Belle? Or was it because he felt Paige had betrayed him in a sense? She couldn't tell, and with a lump in her throat, she backed up a few steps. But she didn't make any move to leave, so he said, "Please, dove. Just go. It's best this way." His voice was rough.

Paige rushed out of the shop and down the street, crying.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin swathed himself in the tattered cloak again before returning to Norah. He wasn't yet ready for her to meet him again, so anonymity suited him for now. With the bag in hand, and without any of his customary flourishes, he said, "I've brought you what you need!"<p>

Norah was by the well outside her house, dressed in men's clothing, which looked strange with her waist-length hair. She had chased Brock away with threats that she would claim he had forced himself on her, but she felt horrible. He was such a sad man. No one had ever heard him talk about his past, but everyone sensed that he had lost something, or perhaps someone, precious to him. He hadn't wanted to leave her here alone, with no one to help her run the farm, and for some reason she couldn't explain, she didn't want to tell him about the man who had offered his help, a man who might have been nothing more than another delusion.

She looked anguished at the stranger's words. "I cannot pay you. I have only a little gold, and that must be spent on seed for the planting. And aside from that, I have nothing. I… I wish it were not so, but… I'm afraid your toil has been for naught."

"The documents are yours, girl," he said. "I only ask a favor, one that will, I hope, be beneficial to yourself as well."

"Anything," she said eagerly. She was only 16, and farming was all she knew. She feared she would not survive if she had to go out into the world and fend for herself.

With an evil smirk the girl could not see, Rumpelstiltskin said, "All I ask is that you be kind to any weary travelers you may meet, especially if you suspect they may be on the run from someone, or something. A man on the run is a desperate soul, who feels all alone in this wide world, and little kindness goes a long way."

Something in his voice told Norah that this man had been there before, had been on the run – maybe still was. Her heart ached for him, and tears stung her eyes. All he wanted was to know that somewhere, there would be at least one person who would be kind to men like himself.

"That is no hardship," she said warmly. "I can promise that easily. This farm is well out of the way." She looked directly at him, though she still could not see into his hood, and added meaningfully, "_Anyone_ who took refuge here would be safe, at least for a time."

It was all Rumpelstiltskin could do not to laugh at her well-meant, but highly naïve, offer. "That is well," he said, putting the bag down on the ground beside her. "What you need… is in the bag."

While she knelt and opened the bag easily, he turned and took the dipper that was in the bucket of water she had drawn from the well. Holding his hood open carefully so she wouldn't see his face, he drank deeply. He gave a contented, "Ahh!" It was a rather good well.

Norah had reached in and pulled out the documents he had promised her. But unbeknownst to her, he had not drawn them up. The bag was performing its magic, giving her, its rightful owner, what she needed.

Glancing over the papers, Norah said, "Thank you so much! Please, I haven't much just now, but there are plenty of vegetables for the stew, and even a little meat. I… I don't have any bread right now, but the stew _is_ filling."

"Oh, no, dearie," he said. "Just that favor we discussed. That, and perhaps a full skin of water?"

"Of course," she exclaimed, rushing to where she'd laid out a few water skins to complete her disguise as a wandering farmhand seeking work. She could sacrifice one for the man who had given her hope for the future.

After she filled it and gave it to him, he gave a small bow and turned, walking away slowly. Norah watched for a moment, but then she noticed the bag still sitting near the well. "Oh, sir," she called out, grabbing the bag's handles. "This is yours!"

He turned and pretended surprise. "Oh, whatever was I thinking? That water must be better than I realized, to make me forget this." His voice was just a touch smarmy, but Norah attributed that to the embarrassment he must be feeling at having left his bag behind. "Thank you so much, dearie." There was something almost sinister in his thanks, and Norah's smile flickered uncertainly.

"No," she said, hesitantly. "Thank _you_." She was suddenly glad he hadn't taken her up on her offer of shelter, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. Bemused, she watched him walk away. Once he was out of sight, she shook her head, trying to put that oddness she'd sensed out of her mind. She went into the house, to the dimmed mirror that stood over her parents' washstand. She pulled her belt knife and took a deep breath. She had begun dressing as a man, but she had not wanted to cut her hair until she knew for sure that this was really going to happen.

"When this is all over," she murmured to her reflection, "I'll be Norman, not Norah."

* * *

><p>Belle couldn't help but keep an eye on the window. She had seen Paige walk past earlier, and though she couldn't know for sure, she suspected the mute girl was headed for the pawn shop, to visit Rumpelstiltskin. Deep down, she trusted him, but she still felt a little jealous.<p>

Sighing, Belle walked away from the cart of books. She leaned into windowsill, craning her neck to see down the street. A young man she didn't know walked by, also walking in the direction of the pawn shop, but she rather doubted he was headed there. She sighed again. "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself, but before she turned away, she saw the person she was watching for.

Paige came rushing past the young man, who turned and called out to her. But Paige didn't seem to hear him. She hurried on by, and as she passed the window, Belle could see that she was crying. Belle's heart ached suddenly. She knew Paige felt a strong bond with Gold, a bond of friendship, and Belle felt certain he was the one who had made Paige cry. Belle knew that it was at least partially her fault.

The young man stared after Paige, and Belle watched him curiously. She wondered if he knew Paige. He pulled out his cell phone and made a call, still watching even after Paige turned a corner and couldn't be seen any longer.

* * *

><p>Paige headed straight for home, the streets passing by in a blur, and before she knew it, she was on her own front porch. But just as she managed to fumble her keys out of her purse, Mike opened his door and stepped out. "Mark just called. He saw you on the street, said you looked pretty upset." He refrained from stating the obvious and saying that Mark was right. "What happened?" Mike wanted to ask if it had something to do with Gold, but Paige was already upset enough. She would probably think he was trying to deliberately goad her.<p>

Paige gave an apologetic smile through her tears and set her keys down on the table between the two wicker chairs on the porch. **It's nothing,** she signed. **Just… pregnancy hormones acting up.**

"Are you sure? I mean, if there's anything I can do…"

**Really, I'm fine. **She smiled at Mike, and though she was forcing the smile, she was able to make it look genuine enough to fool him.

He let out a sigh of relief. "Mark seemed to think something horrible had happened."

_It did,_ Paige thought to herself, but it didn't show on her face. Her smile turned wry and she signed, **Well, as much as I hate to admit it, it's just all these hormones. I just don't think it's fair that body chemistry can make me **_**feel**_** a certain way, but what can you do?**

Mike smiled back at Paige. "Well, I promise not to hold it against you," he teased. "I'll call Mark back and let him know you're okay." He paused for a moment before asking, "So, um, mind if I come over for dinner tonight?"

Paige's whole face lit up. This would be the first time they had dinner together since shortly after the Curse broke. **Not at all. I mean, it's fine. Would you like me to make anything special?**

"Oh, no, just whatever," Mike replied. "Everything you make is delicious."

**Okay, just be over by around six, **Paige signed back. She wanted to broach the subject of finding a loophole in the law that required her to be married in order for her daughter to be allowed to take the throne, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She hadn't even talked to Horne yet, so what would be the point of upsetting Mike when she didn't even know if a loophole could be found?

But as soon as she thought that, she realized that she had no place berating Gold for not telling Belle the whole truth. She was showing the exact same cowardice in not wanting to start an uncomfortable discussion with Mike, and her father had always said that if you live in a mirrored castle, you should never throw stones. She wondered if she had the courage to go back to Gold and apologize.

* * *

><p>Belle entered the pawnshop, flinching slightly as the little bell over the door announced her arrival. Gold appeared from the curtained doorway.<p>

"Belle!" he said, looking genuinely surprised to see her.

"Rumple," she responded. After a short, awkward silence, she said, "Look, I… I came here to apologize. I know it must have been hard for you, not knowing how I'd take the news about Paige. I'm sorry I got so angry with you, but I…" She trailed off, not quite sure how to express herself.

"You were hurt. And perhaps jealous," Gold said softly. "And I should have told you from the get-go, I know. I just… as I told you before, Belle, I'm still a coward, in so many ways."

"But you're trying, Rumple," Belle said encouragingly, putting a hand on Gold's arm. "And I do appreciate that." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged him.

Enjoying the feeling of Belle's hair brushing against his cheek as they embraced, Gold blinked back tears. He was glad she had forgiven him, but it was only now that he realized that he shouldn't have been so hard on Paige.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Queen of Hearts."

The fact that Felix had inherited a magic bag (well, sort of, since it technically belongs to Norah now, as she is the heir of the family) is a reference to Felix the Cat and his Magic Bag of Tricks. **I do not own any rights to the character of Felix the Cat, or to his Magic Bag of Tricks, nor am I, in any way, affiliated with the creator/production studio/etc.**

The appearance of my bag was inspired by the cartoon bag. My bag's magic is different, though. Felix the Cat's bag could assume the shape and properties of whatever he wanted, while my magic bag will only open for its true owner, and will magically create whatever is needed, within certain (and so-far unspecified) limits. This bag was enchanted by a fairy, so Rumpelstiltskin had no need to create the documents Norah needed to assume her disguise and take over the farm.

When collecting his price from Felix, Rumple quotes Ursula from Disney's animated "The Little Mermaid," **to which, of course, I do not own any rights, nor am I affiliated in any way with Disney**

Well, there you have it! Please please PLEASE review and tell me what you thought!


	31. S2 Ch10 - Stalking Horse

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's material.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In Storybrooke, Paige discovers a law that requires any heir to the Blueberry throne to be born in wedlock, meaning that if she does not marry before her child is born, the girl can never be considered worthy of the throne, no matter how competent she may prove to be.

When Paige meets Ed Grove, who was Sir Elrick in the world that was, she finally realizes that he is in love with her. In fact, once the truth about the baby's father is out, and once that law Paige just learned of is revealed, Ed offers to marry Paige if Mike won't, so that Paige's first-born child can have the opportunity to prove herself.

Torn between her love for Mike and her desire to give her daughter the right she is entitled to, Paige seriously considers marrying Ed simply because of that law. But it all becomes too much for Paige, and she nearly crosses the town border just to forget all her difficult problems, but she stops herself at the last second. She is taken back to Fawn and Noah's house, where it seems that Fawn already considers her family even though she hasn't married Mike yet. Noah is certain that this law must have loopholes, or that loopholes could be made, that would allow Paige to have both of the things she wants – marriage to Mike and the chance for her daughter to prove herself. But Paige is concerned that Mike will not like this idea.

~In the Enchanted Forest, Eliza's brothers are turned to swans at nearly the exact moment that her betrothal agreement to Prince Andrew of the Wolfsbane Kingdom is signed by Andrew's brother, King Tristan. Sir Ryan, the knight that made the perilous journey through the remnants of the Betrayer's kingdom, is killed as he is bringing the signed agreement home to the Blueberry Kingdom. Ryan's squire, Elrick, completes the mission.

Meanwhile, Andrew prepares to leave his kingdom, choosing a suitable replacement as the general of his brother's armies, and spending time with his family. He visits his mother Garnet, who has been exiled for plotting against Tristan, telling her that he has been betrothed. His mother is angry, knowing that Rumpelstiltskin's prediction is coming true and that he will become a king, but a powerless one, as she sees it.

Within a month after Andrew arrives in the Blueberry kingdom, an attempt is made on Eliza's life. Only her own skills with a sword save her, and Andrew is sick with worry, remembering Rumpelstiltskin's warning that a murder could negate the prophecy that Andrew would marry a red-headed queen. With help from Rumpelstiltskin, Andrew stops the assassin, but at the cost of discovering that his own mother was behind it.

In the interest of Eliza's continued safety, the squire who brought back Sir Ryan's body along with the signed betrothal agreement is knighted, and tasked with the protection of the Crown Princess…

* * *

><p>Andrew stared at the letter in his hands. His brother was just as much at a loss over their mother's treacherous actions, but Tristan had set the terms under which Garnet could be disowned and executed. In engaging an assassin to kill Eliza, she had neither tried to re-enter the kingdom unlawfully, nor had she betrayed Tristan's monarchy. Oh, a case could be made that this act was undermining Tristan's relationship with the Blueberry Kingdom, but Andrew and Tristan both knew that wasn't why she'd done it. But what to do about their mother now? Neither of them <em>wanted <em>to see her executed, but this could not be allowed to go unnoticed.

Sighing, Andrew rang a bell, summoning the only manservant he'd brought from his own kingdom. The rest of his attendants had been provided by King Owen. Aside from being wholly devoted to Andrew, Colby had no family left in their own land – he had lost them to the Wolfs. Whatever he had seen had left him taciturn, not much interested in interacting with people aside from Andrew, who had saved his life. Andrew never pressed him about the details.

Colby entered the room, a man almost as old as Andrew's father would be by now, if he still lived. The man walked a fine line sometimes. He had a tendency to treat Andrew like a favorite nephew, an attitude that could be almost too familiar at times. But he was also quite proficient as Andrew's manservant, showing proper deference at all the right moments. In short, Colby had fit in as if he had been serving Andrew's family from his first breath, as if he had been there when Andrew was born.

"Will I be taking dictation, my lord?" Colby asked, although he had brought neither parchment nor pen.

"Not yet, Colby," Andrew replied, smiling wryly at the man. Somehow, he had known that Andrew didn't know what to do about all this. "But it's time to dress for supper. My second-best coat, I think, tonight."

"Of course, sir," the man demurred. Even though it was not a formal supper, Andrew had noticed that, as the winter began to thaw into spring, both Eliza and her father dressed a bit more formally for dinner. He assumed it was because the six swans, Eliza's bespelled brothers, should be migrating back soon. Temperatures were getting warmer, and the large pond on the nearby blueberry farm was no longer quite freezing at night.

Colby dressed Andrew in silence, until near the very end of the process. "That young knight who has been tasked with the safety of your betrothed?"

"Sir Elrick, you mean?" asked Andrew, wondering what this was about. The man was usually only this circumspect when he thought the subject would upset the prince.

"Aye, that's the one, sir," Colby murmured, nodding to himself. "I think, perhaps, you should watch him closely."

Andrew covered the older man's hands with his own, stopping Colby, who looked into his master's face. Andrew said, "Tell me clearly what is troubling you. Do not bandy about cryptic words where her safety is concerned." Had the man discovered some unpleasant secret about the young knight? Was her own protector a danger to Eliza?

His face going suddenly pale, Colby said, "No, my lord! This does not concern her safety in any way. Please believe me when I say that if I suspected any danger to your beloved, I would tell you immediately!" The man's face was so earnest and almost frightened that Andrew couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty for assuming the man would not be direct about Eliza's well-being.

"I believe you, Colby." His relief showed in his face and in his voice. "So tell me, what should I be watching him for that does not concern her safety?"

Colby let out a relieved breath. He knew he should have realized that Andrew would immediately fear for Eliza's wellbeing. "It is simply… well, he cares deeply for her. Perhaps a bit _too_ deeply, if you take my meaning."

Andrew blinked a few times, trying to process this. "You think he loves her?" Colby, knowing his master's thought process, understood that this question did not require an answer, and went back to buttoning Andrew's coat. "I shall watch for that. But… do you suppose she cares for him in return?" He knew Eliza was his one true love, but what if she had conflicting emotions for another man?

"That I cannot say for certain, m'lord," Colby replied. "She _does_ spend a good deal of time with him, though."

Andrew frowned thoughtfully into the mirror, not really noticing his own reflection. His stomach was in knots just thinking about it. Eliza loved him, he knew that, but sometimes spending a lot of time with someone could make feelings grow that might otherwise not have bloomed.

* * *

><p>Paige rested her arms on the railing, looking out at the docks. For some reason, she had woken up early, so she decided to take a walk, but she had ended up here, staring out over all the ships bobbing gently in their moorings. Looking at the sea always made her think of a particular visit to the sea-side town that her kingdom had used to ship their goods along the coast – much safer than braving the Wolfswood. Unconsciously, she rubbed the side of her right thigh. She couldn't feel the scars through the maternity jeans she was wearing, but she knew they were still there.<p>

Lost in thought, she jumped when a voice spoke to her.

"Hey, Paige! Haven't seen _you_ in awhile!" It was Cassiel, the bartender from the club Paige and Ruby sometimes visited.

Paige smiled and pulled out her ever-present notebook. But before she could write anything, Cassie barreled on.

"I noticed you and Ruby haven't been to the club lately, and I hope it's not my fault," she said, wincing slightly as she said the last part.

Looking confused, Paige wrote a note asking why Cassie would even think such a thing.

Blushing slightly, Cassie said, "Well, I mean, that day we had lunch together, I left kind of suddenly, and all, and I just thought maybe I offended you guys."

Paige hurriedly wrote that they had both understood her wanting to spend time with her husband, and that she and Ruby had had a fight later that same day.

"Oh! So that's why you two haven't been!" She gave a half-chuckle of relief. She didn't want to try to explain the real reason she'd left so suddenly, because she was a little bit worried that people might not believe her. "Do you… want to talk about it? The fight with Ruby, I mean? I'm a bartender, so I'm a really good listener."

Paige glanced down at the ground before writing. She explained that Ruby had freaked out when Paige revealed the truth about her pregnancy. Paige tore that sheet of paper out of the notebook so she could keep writing while Cassie read. When Cassie looked up, seeming a bit confused, Paige handed her the notebook, where she had summarized the spell on her brothers, her deal with Rumpelstiltskin and the fact that the price he required had left her with child, and her continuing relationship with Gold here in Storybrooke. She had ended the note with the fact that she had come to consider Mr. Gold a good friend.

Cassie's eyebrows raised higher and higher, and Paige's heart was in her throat as she waited for the bartender to finish.

"Wow," Cassie said. "I… really didn't expect _that_." She cleared her throat before asking, "So, um, would you ever consider coming to the club by yourself? I mean, I know you can't drink or anything, but you can dance, or hang out by the bar and talk to me when I'm not busy."

Taken aback, Paige wrote another note.

"Why should I care? I mean, it's your body," Cassie replied. "Okay, yeah, I think it's gross that you were sleeping with Gold, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Just, um, I don't want to hear the details, alright?" She couldn't quite suppress a shudder. "He's the father of your child, _you_ think he's an okay guy, and that's really all I need to know."

Paige wrote again, asking about Gold's age. She had never even thought about their age difference until Matilda brought it up last week, although looking back, she realized that Mike had called him a dirty old man before, maybe more than once. She guessed she had just been so upset at his reaction that it didn't click when Mike referred to the age difference between herself and Gold.

But that note made Cassie laugh. "Look, you've met my husband. He's old enough to be my father, so I understand the idea of being attracted to an older man. Well, I mean, not Gold, you know, but I get the whole older-man thing in general. It's not like _I'm_ going to judge you for that."

This time Paige wrote about Mike and true love, but she also added the part about him needing to decide if he could act as the father to Gold's child.

"Hey, you obviously felt _some_ kind of attraction to Gold," Cassie said. "Just because the old man _I'm _attracted to is my one true love, doesn't mean it happens that way for everyone." She shook her head. "Sorry, I've got say this. I'm not sure, but it might actually make it grosser that you weren't actually in love with Gold. You just… slept with him because… I mean, you just wanted him for one thing, right?"

Paige wasn't offended. She wrote again, explaining that it started out as just lust, but that over time, she had come to see the good in him.

"Well, maybe you're right," Cassie said, almost reluctantly. "But anyway, like I said, it's your life, your body – none of my business. Just, please – no details!"

Smiling, Paige wrote a promise that she would never subject Cassie to any intimate details, adding that she wasn't the kind of girl who would kiss and tell.

"Alright, then, maybe I'll see you at the club sometime?" Cassie asked, sounding relieved.

Paige wrote that she would think about it, and then Cassie said goodbye and headed toward Granny's to pick up coffee for her husband. As Paige watched her walk away, the bartender offered a friendly greeting to Regina, who ignored it. The former mayor's face was tight with anger, and she seemed to be looking for something, or perhaps someone. Knowing who Regina had been, Paige turned back to the view, but watched out of the corner of her eye. As far as she knew, Regina had no reason to be looking for her, but Paige couldn't help shrinking in on herself, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. She gave a very soft sigh of relief when Regina kept on walking.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Princess," Andrew said softly as he embraced Eliza in the hallway outside the dining chamber. His voice was soft and caring, because he knew she was feeling very stressed right now.<p>

Eliza smiled to hear him call her that. For some reason, it still amused her, and he didn't do it very often. She knew he was trying to comfort her, and it did ease her heart a little to have him near her. "Hey, yourself," she replied. "You dress more formally than you greet. Is this some oddity of your kingdom?"

The light-hearted banter gave Andrew some measure of relief. He was worried about her, and to know that she could still make jokes was good. "Why, yes, it is," he teased. "The more formally we dress, the less formally we greet. Isn't that simply how it's done?"

Eliza just laughed softly. Andrew drew back and took her hand, kissing it gallantly. "Come, my lady," he said, his voice mockingly formal. "Dinner awaits."

"Now you're just making fun," Eliza murmured, her eyes alight with the humor of the situation. She took his arm and let him escort her into the dining room.

Elrick had entered as soon as Andrew joined them, to give them a few moments of privacy. But now he stood by Eliza's chair, waiting to seat her. Andrew tried to catch Eliza's expression as she beheld the short young knight, but all he could tell was that she smiled at him. He and Elrick were seated on either side of Eliza, so all through dinner, whenever she turned to Elrick, Andrew would not be able to see her face. It irked him, but he knew he had to be circumspect. If Eliza _had_ grown overly fond of her protector, the situation would have to be handled delicately.

* * *

><p>Paige had just turned away from the view and started walking again when she heard the footsteps of a jogger behind her. She stepped to the side to give the person room, too deep in thought to realize that the footsteps were slowing down. She felt relieved at Cassie's reaction to the truth. Fawn and Noah had seemed to take it in stride when she told them, and though Matilda's initial reaction had been one of disgust and shock, she had been able to get past that. Unlike some people.<p>

"Hey, Paige," said a hesitant voice.

Turning, Paige swallowed hard. That was Ruby's voice!

**Hi, Ruby,** Paige signed.

Ruby looked embarrassed as she said, "Hey, listen, I just… I mean, I wanted to apologize. For getting mad at you about… about…" But she couldn't quite make herself finish the sentence.

**My situation with Mr. Gold? **signed Paige in response.

"Yeah. That," Ruby said, blushing slightly. "I was just… well, I mean, Granny told me about what happened during the full moon, how you took those lasagnas, and how she told you about… my curse. So that day you told me, I was freaking out about wolfs time, and I know I was a bitch, and I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

**Why were you freaking out about it?**

"Well, it was twenty-eight years since the last time I had turned, and I guess I was just afraid of the monster inside me." After a moment of silence, Ruby felt she needed to add, "And I was also afraid of… what you might think of me. I was so worried about it that I never even thought how you must be feeling about telling me _your_ dark secret."

Paige smiled and gave a silent snort of laughter. **Ironic, that little word. **Ruby looked at her, confused.** My "dark" secret? And Gold is the Dark One?**

Ruby chuckled. "I didn't even think of it that way!" She made a face, thinking of the kind of relationship Paige had with Gold. "Look, I think what you're doing is disgusting, but that doesn't mean I hate you. And you were right, I don't have to like Gold to accept that _you_ consider him a friend. I think you're crazy for it, but… I mean, I don't want to lose you over it."

Looking sad, Paige signed, **Well, he has Belle back now, so we stopped having sex, but… when she found out about me, I guess she was upset, so I'm not sure if he still **_**wants**_** to be my friend.**

Hugging Paige, Ruby said, "I'm sorry. I'm sure everything will be okay." Then she giggled, which made Paige push away to give her a look. "I'm sorry, Paige, really I am, but…" Ruby giggled again. "I can't believe I'm trying to reassure that you'll be able to make up with _Gold,_ of all people!"

Paige gave a half-smile, and Ruby gathered that Paige wasn't amused by her antics, so she did her best to stifle the giggles.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to hide the amusement she still felt.

**Just… try to keep that kind of thought to yourself, okay?**

Finally wiping the last traces of the smile from her face, Ruby replied, "I'll do my best."

Paige smiled, more genuinely this time. **I guess that's all I can ask,** she signed.

Now Ruby looked more serious. "By the way, Granny told me something else. She said that, after the night when… when Spencer came after me, Mike came to see her, to ask if I was okay. She said… I mean, Mike told her what you did, how you stood up to an angry mob for me. Even though I had hurt you." Her eyes filled with tears. "And, um, I just wanted to say, thank you. That really means a lot to me."

Tears stood in Paige's eyes, too. **I knew they were wrong. I knew you wouldn't kill anyone. And I couldn't let them hurt you.**

Ruby hugged Paige again, whispering in her ear. "Not very many people would have done something like that for me. Thank you!"

* * *

><p>It had settled into a chilly spring, as if winter were trying to prolong itself, and Andrew knew that Eliza was growing anxious to see her brothers again. But until the weather was more reliable, they were not likely to migrate back home. In an effort to distract her, he had suggested a card game. He had invited Elrick to play, as well, taking care to choose a round table, where they could sit like the corners of a triangle. It would allow him to watch both of their faces as they interacted with each other.<p>

Andrew was starting to wish he had been content to let it alone. The warm smiles Eliza directed at the stunted knight made him ache. She certainly cared for him a great deal, and Andrew worried that she cared _too_ much. It also hurt to notice that Andrew was not the only one who could coax Eliza to smile and make jokes in spite of her worries.

Because of his concerns, Andrew played very poorly. Eliza noticed that something was wrong, and Andrew muttered something cryptic about his brother's letter. The princess knew that it was Andrew's own mother who had hired the assassin, but no one else had been told, not even King Owen. Even Eliza herself had agreed that her father might overreact if he learned the truth.

It pained Andrew to see Eliza's concerned look. She shouldn't be worrying about him, she should be running her kingdom. Of course, she had been rather distracted from that recently, which was understandable. Andrew had worked closely with the faun, Dr. Nerean, to help out wherever possible, even though he knew he wasn't cut out to rule. He just wanted to help Eliza in any way he could. The only problem was that she seemed to have started relying on his help.

He stood suddenly. "I apologize, Eliza, Sir Elrick. I am… suddenly not feeling well. I think I'll retire to my chambers and rest." Without waiting for a response, he walked away. Part of him wanted to look back, to see how they would react at his abrupt departure, but instead he hurried away, trying not to think ill of Eliza. But the way she had smiled at that diminutive knight!

* * *

><p><strong>It doesn't seem entirely fair, Doctor,<strong> Paige signed. She was talking to Dr. Horne about that law. **I mean, there **_**has**_** to be some kind of clause for extenuating circumstances! For instance, what if a queen married and became pregnant, but her husband was killed before the babe was born? Must even she be married for that child to earn the right to rule? How can it be right to ask a grieving widow to remarry when her husband's grave is fresh?**

"That is being a much-excellent point, Paige," Horne replied. "However, I must be confessing that I cannot see how this clause of which you speak might affect you."

**I didn't get pregnant because I was careless, Doctor,** she replied. **Or because I decided I **_**wanted**_** to be a single mother. I made a deal to save my brothers from an awful spell, and I knew that a child would result. I made that sacrifice out of love. I have every intention of marrying Andrew, if he will still have me. The clause I propose would state that, in extenuating circumstances, a child born out of wedlock can rule under one condition. If the person who becomes that child's step-parent chooses to legally adopt the child as his or her own, that child can then be tested for the proper qualities. If the child proves worthy, she, or he, can ascend the throne.**

Dr. Horne sat back in his chair, pursing his lips as he thought it over. He ran his hand over his head, but stopped abruptly. Paige felt sorry for him; she knew he missed his horns.

When the silence stretched too long, Paige tapped on the doctor's arm to get his attention so she could add, **This law is all about raising the next ruler in a loving family, doctor. If a step-parent cares for a child so much that he will legally adopt her, put her at the same level as his own biological children, that **_**proves**_** that the family is loving.**

Horne sighed. "You are being so very correct, Eliza. I will draw up all proper documentations, for you to be signing in your father's stead." He hesitated. "And I am also in very much agreement that your circumstances are being worthy of the term 'extenuating.' Congratulations, little princess. Your so-determined efforts at being given a fair deal are winning out again, it is seeming." His tone was wry, but his face creased into a warm smile. Paige knew that he did not disapprove. He was a faun, not a human. If he disagreed with her reasoning, he would say so, no matter that it might hurt her feelings. His nature was one of the few things Paige felt she could rely on just now.

But it was time for the hard part. She had to tell Mike.

* * *

><p>"You can't always have your cake and eat it, too," Mike said, angry. "How can I marry you knowing that you expect me to adopt that dirty old man's child?"<p>

**It's not like that, Mike. If she can't win you over, if you can't love her like she was your own, then she doesn't deserve to rule, and that's that. This just gives us both the chance to have what we want.**

Mike snorted. "What we both want is mutually exclusive, Paige. I don't understand how you could put me in this position."

Paige hated this. She wished that, for once, she could be wrong about Mike taking something badly. **Do you still love me? Or are you afraid I'll leave you for Gold? Is that what this is about? I am in love with you, Mike. You. Just you. Yes, I let myself fall into lust, but I'm hardly alone in that. How many women did **_**you**_** "dally" with in your kingdom? I knew from the start that I wouldn't be your first, so if you're upset that you won't be **_**my**_** first, you don't have a leg to stand on.**

"Oh, you are _not_ going to turn this around on me," Mike said heatedly. "Just because I had a few flings, _before I ever met you_, that doesn't compare at all. I didn't sleep with anyone while we were together."

**And the only time **_**I**_** did it was when I was paying my price. Because we weren't even close to "together" while we were Cursed, Mike. **Even though there had been dreams after the Curse broke, they all took place while Mike was trying to decide if he still wanted to marry Paige, so they were basically taking a break from their relationship, as it would be termed in this world. Well, technically that wasn't true of the first dream, but at that point, she hadn't known it was real, so she didn't count that. A person couldn't be held responsible for something she believed to be a dream.

As if he had read her mind, Mike asked, "And those dreams you told me about?" His voice was hard.

**That was **_**after**_** you told me you needed more time to figure out what to do. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you would honestly say we've been "together" since then? Because I certainly don't see it that way. You weren't here for me, and it was your own choice. And just so you know, Mr. Gold and Belle are dating now, so he and I have stopped even the dreams.**

"How can I believe that, Paige? How can you prove that you're not still screwing him in your dreams?"

**You're right, I can't prove we stopped. But just remember, I told you that I would **_**never**_** do anything to harm his chances with Belle. He loves her, and I could never take that from him. So I guess you'll have to decide whether or not my word is good enough for you. **Paige's gaze, while angry, was also steady, and Mike could see nothing but honesty in her eyes.

Mike sighed. But before he could open his mouth to speak, Paige signed, **Let me guess. You need more time, right? That's all I ever hear from you anymore. **She took a deep breath. **Do you have any idea how hard it is to hear that? Part of me wants to tell you that I'm about to give up on you, but we both know I could never do that. So please, just… don't say it again.**

Mike cleared his throat. "Whether I say it out loud or not, it's still true, Paige," he said.

**I know. I just… I don't want to have to hear it this time, okay?**

With another sigh, Mike nodded. After a long moment of silence, he said, "I'm… going out for a bit. So you should probably leave now." He knew that would hurt Paige, and part of him felt a childish satisfaction in that. But another part of him was just tired of all the fighting.

* * *

><p>Nearly a week after the disastrous card game, Eliza came to Andrew's chambers one afternoon. She took one look at his face and turned to her short shadow. "Elrick," she said softly, "would you please stand guard on these chambers while Andrew and I talk?"<p>

The knight's eyes flicked over to Andrew, with just a hint of jealousy, quickly smoothed away. "Of course, Your Highness," he answered. "I will serve as you ask." With another quick, unfriendly look at Andrew, Elrick left, shutting the door behind himself.

Andrew was surprised when Eliza walked over to the door to make sure it was shut all the way. "Don't you trust your protector, Eliza?" His words held just a hint of a bite.

"With my life," she replied. "But that doesn't mean he needs to hear my private conversations, or try to protect me from emotional harm." Having heard the heat in Andrew's voice, Eliza's words were frosty.

"Well, _excuse me_, Princess," Andrew said sarcastically.

She stared at him for a moment. "What in the realms has gotten into you, Andrew? You've been moody and distant – have I done something wrong?" Before he could answer, another thought occurred to her. "Or are you still upset about your mother?" she added softly.

Andrew sighed. He couldn't stay angry, not when she was being so loving and concerned in the face of her own worries. "I'm sorry, Eliza. It's just… you've been spending so much time with Sir Elrick, and I just… Do you love him?"

Eliza blinked, taken aback. "Of course I spend a lot of time with him, he was assigned to me for my safety. But I like spending time with him, Andrew. Not because I love him, but because… because he seems so young and innocent, and he just reminds me so much of my brothers."

The pain in her voice made Andrew's heart ache. All this time, he had thought the worst, and she was just trying to find a surrogate to relieve the pain of being separated from her brothers.

"I mean, I know he's older than even Weston, but he's still four years younger than me. Being around him just… helps, somehow. I still miss them, so much, but when he's near me, it's almost like they're there, somehow, just around a corner, or in another room. And maybe that's silly, but I can't help it." She looked earnestly into Andrew's eyes. "I love you, Andrew, with all my heart. And being near you helps, too, but in a different way. When I'm with you, it just… doesn't matter quite as much that they're gone, because I have you near me, and with Elrick, it's like a little piece of my brothers is there, too. So yes, I spend a lot of time with him, and yes, I _like_ being around him, but I _love_ being around you."

"I'm so sorry, Eliza. I've been such a fool. I just… I saw the way you smile at him, and I couldn't help but think that maybe spending so much time with him had, I don't know, made you start to have feelings for him."

She smiled gently and put a hand on his arm. "Feelings of love that would grow from that sort of situation are almost always false, Andrew. But that doesn't matter, because it's not even relevant here."

"I love you, Eliza. I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

"And I love you, Andrew." She stepped into his arms and kissed him. It was tender and chaste at first, but it soon grew deeper. When they finally drew apart, they were breathless, and thinking of things they had both agreed not to do before they married.

"Perhaps you and I shouldn't be alone in my chambers, Eliza," Andrew teased, his voice a little hoarse.

Fighting back a smirk, Eliza countered, "Perhaps I should not have asked my protector to stand outside. Perhaps I should have him chaperone us in the future."

"Don't you dare," Andrew said softly, unable to fight back the smile. He knew she was just teasing him. "If he chaperones us, I will _never_ kiss you again."

"Oh, now that's just mean," Eliza retorted, still smiling herself. She and Andrew hadn't bantered like this in a while, and she had missed it.

"But true," Andrew insisted. "I can't kiss you in front of him. You said he's like your brother, right? That would just be weird."

Eliza poked Andrew in the ribs. "Don't make fun. I can't help how I feel about him."

Andrew ignored the poke. "So you're saying you would be comfortable kissing me like that in front of your brothers?"

"Well… no," Eliza admitted. "But –"

"No buts," Andrew interrupted. "If he's there, no kisses, and that's final."

"Oh, fine," she retorted, pretending to pout.

Just as Andrew was about to kiss her again, Elrick opened the door. "Princess? Your father sent a messenger. He wishes to see you immediately." The young man was smiling broadly. "A group of swans has been seen in the distance. They believe there are six of them, Your Highness!"

Eliza gasped and kissed Andrew, but after a moment he pushed her away. "Our chaperone?" he murmured.

"Oh, you," Eliza said, but she was unable to hide her joy. Grasping his hand, she said, "Come on, let's go wait for them!"

* * *

><p>"Mike, you're an idiot," Noah said. "Don't you see what she's trying to do? She's giving <em>you<em> the choice."

"No, she's not," Mike retorted. "She's setting me up to be the bad guy! If I don't adopt that dirty old man's child, then it's all my fault the kid can't take the throne! And they'll _both_ probably hate me!"

Fawn spoke quietly. "Paige is not that kind of person. She simply wants to give her daughter the best chance possible."

"Well, I can tell you right now, I will _never_ adopt Rumpelstiltskin's child." Mike glared at his sister-in-law. "And I don't think it would be fair to Page to let her get her hopes up when I know I'm just going to crush them. So I guess that means I shouldn't marry her."

Fawn studied Mike for a moment. "You are being selfish, Mike. You're not making this choice for Paige's sake, nor for her daughter's. What are you most afraid of? That you won't adopt her daughter and she'll despise you for it? Or that you'll grow to love the Dark One's child and put that girl on the same level as your own children?"

"Shut up, Fawn!" Mike shouted, his face red. "That man is evil, and his daughter probably will be, too!"

Fawn's face was impassive and her voice mild as she replied, "The Dark One is _not_ pure evil, Mike. He was a man, once. He loved, he wept, he hoped, and feared, like any other man. That man had good intentions when he took up the mantle of the Dark One, and that good is in him still. Do you honestly believe Rumpelstiltskin's child will be evil? After all, the girl will have Paige as a mother – are saying the woman you love is capable of producing pure evil?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Mike spat.

"If you continue to claim that you could never love her first-born, for the simple reason of who the father happens to be, then that's the way everyone will see it," Fawn said softly. "People will believe that you do not trust the woman you claim to love, and then they will start to question whether you really love her at all. More importantly, Paige will question it, and you could lose her forever. Perhaps it would be best if you do not voice such sentiments to her."

Mike was taken aback by Fawn's reasoning, but only for a moment. "But if I end up not marrying her after all, what would it matter what anyone thinks?"

"Pregnancy is a very delicate time in a woman's life," Fawn said, and though her voice was still soft, there was a hard edge to it now. "The hormones make a woman feel things she cannot explain, and it is never easy. But you are making things worse for her, so until you can accept the fact that she is carrying the Dark One's child, and no longer fight with her over it, perhaps you should stay away from Paige. She doesn't need you continually breaking her heart. This is already hard enough for her."

"What would you know, Fawn?" Mike asked. "You're not even human!"

Noah knew that his wife could hold her own, which was why he hadn't jumped in so far, but this was too much. He stood, saying, "Get out of my house, Mike." His voice was low and dangerous.

Fawn stood as well, holding out a hand toward her husband in a conciliatory gesture. "You are right. I am a Golden Hind, and I see _deeper_ into the hearts of humans than most of your own species. You love Paige. It is something in _yourself_ that you fear, not in her, and not in the Dark One. And if you could overcome that, you would see that your love for Paige is unconditional. You might also see that Gold is not the monster you make him out to be."

Mike glared at Fawn. Noah stood at her shoulder, quiet, but with an air of menace, so Mike didn't say the things he wanted to say. He clenched his teeth to keep from speaking, then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Noah followed. "Wait, Mike, there's something you should know. Fawn… didn't want to tell you, but I think you deserve to know."

Without replying or looking back, Mike stopped. Knowing he was listening, Noah continued, "Like Fawn said, you love Paige, so this might not be easy to hear, but… last week, Paige almost crossed the border."

"What?" Mike turned, looking shocked.

"Fawn was there, and she said they never would have gotten to her in time." Noah's voice was compassionate, though he was still upset about what Mike had said to Fawn. "Paige was trying to get rid of the pain of having two sets of memories in her head, but at the last second, she stopped herself. Now, I don't know her like you do, but I'm pretty sure that part of the reason she stopped herself was you. She didn't want to lose you just so she could be in less pain, Mike." Noah paused. "I just thought you should know that, when you make your big decision. She loves you, and it's killing her that you might leave her over something she did to save her brothers."

For a long moment, Mike and Noah just stood there. "Thanks," Mike finally said, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. "I… I'm going to go, now." He turned to the door, but then he turned back. "Would you… tell Fawn I'm sorry?" He gave a dry, mirthless laugh. "Seems like all I've done since I became Mike is say things that hurt the people I most care about."

Noah stepped forward, his hand outstretched. But before he could even speak, Mike was gone.

Fawn stepped up behind Noah. Without turning, he said, "What was all that about the Dark One? When you made your deal with him, the one that stripped you of your full nature, you acted like you hated him." His voice was rough.

"First of all, husband mine," Fawn said, pulling Noah's arm around her, "I have not been stripped of my full nature. I will still be young when you are gone, and I can go back to my forests then. We both knew that when we started our relationship." Her voice was soft; although she knew it was coming, she didn't like thinking of her husband's inevitable death. "And as to Rumpelstiltskin, well, that was before I saw him with Belle. They were at Granny's the other day, and the way he looks at her… He truly loves her, enough that he's trying to change for her, and that means the goodness he once had is still there somewhere, buried."

Noah started to reply, but just then little Will came running down the stairs. He flew at his parents, and they knelt as one to put their arms around him.

"Momma," he said, nearly crying, "why was Uncle Mike shouting? Is he mad at us?"

"Oh, no, darling, he's just… scared, and he's trying to hide it by pretending to be angry." Fawn kissed Will's forehead.

"What's he afwaid of?" Will's little face was still anxious.

When he noticed that his wife was at a loss for words, Noah stepped in. "Grown-up things, Willie."

The boy drew a breath that almost sounded like a sob. "I don't wike gwown-up fings."

"I know, sweetie," Fawn said comfortingly. "But how about we go into the kitchen and make some cookies? That way, whenever Uncle Mike comes back, we can give him milk and cookies."

Will gave a big smile. "Den he'll be all better!"

Over the boy's head, Noah and Fawn exchanged a look that was both worried and fond. If only it were that easy.

* * *

><p>Paige was beginning to regret coming out on this walk with Ed. He had dropped by her place not long after Mike left, and at first Paige thought it would be nice to just get out for a bit, to get some fresh air.<p>

Ed wanted to walk along the docks, and Paige thought wistfully of the good morning she'd had. Why couldn't Mike just be understanding for once? She hoped he would come around eventually, but though she had initially considered Ed's offer to marry her if necessary, she realized that she still thought of him as a brother. Mike had been right when he said she'd never marry Ed.

In some ways, she was grateful to Mike for asking her to really think about it. Now if only he could see that this clause was perfect for both of them! Paige could marry Mike after her child was born, but if Mike grew to love the girl, she could still have her chance to prove herself. It really would work out. Paige understood that Mike might never be able to accept her daughter, but this at least would give the girl every opportunity, instead of throwing it all away just because Paige only wanted to marry the man she loved.

Suddenly, Paige swallowed hard and stopped walking. She put a hand to her stomach; the baby had just kicked harder than she had yet! But mostly, Paige had a sick feeling in her stomach. What would she do if Mike really _didn't_ marry her? Then she would _have _to marry for political reasons, according to that law.

Ed noticed Paige had stopped. "Hey, are you alright, Paige?"

Trying to smile reassuringly, Paige nodded. **Yeah, just… suddenly not feeling so great.** She laid both hands on her stomach. It was more of an instinctive gesture than anything else, but Ed took it to mean that it was something to do with her pregnancy.

"Here, there's a bench just ahead, you should sit down!" He took her by the arm and helped her over to the bench. Paige felt a little irritated – she was pregnant, not made out of glass! But since he had her arm in a firm grip, she couldn't exactly tell him to stop treating her like this.

Once Paige was sitting down, Ed hovered nervously. "Do you need anything? Water? Are you hungry?"

**No!** Paige signed emphatically. **Thanks for the concern, but really, I'm fine.**

"Oh, well, if you're sure," Ed said, sitting next to her. "But if you _do_ need something, let me know, I'll go get it for you. My family's fishing boat isn't too far from here, and we always keep water and food on board, in case of emergencies. Blankets, too, if you get cold."

Paige tried to smile politely. **Thank you, but I'm fine. It's a beautiful night, let's just enjoy it for a bit, okay?**

"Okay," Ed replied, smiling. Having been born in a fishing town, he enjoyed being near the water like this. His village had been on a lake, but somehow the tang of salt just seemed to make things even more perfect. As a boy, he had loved the smell of the water, but it wasn't until the Curse broke that he realized that the smell of lake water was lacking.

He listened to the familiar sounds of the waves lapping against the boats that were moored at the docks. Somewhere nearby, there was a very large boat! Ed could tell from the sounds it was making, but though he looked around, he couldn't see it. As he looked off to the one side, he caught sight of Paige's face out of the corner of his eye. She was staring out into the darkness almost wistfully, and somehow that worried expression made her seem all the more beautiful to him. He couldn't help himself – he leaned over and kissed her lips.

Startled, Paige pushed him away. **What do you think you're doing? **she signed.

"I'm sorry," Ed said, "but you just looked so beautiful, looking out over the water like that, and I couldn't help it."

**You know I love Andrew,** she retorted.

"But we all know he's never going to get over this," Ed protested. "He _never_ appreciated you, and now he just leaves you all alone, even though it hurts you! _I_ would never do anything to hurt you, Eliza." His voice was passionate.

Paige stood up. **I could never marry you, Ed. I thought I could if I had to, but I don't love you, and I never will. You're like one of my brothers!**

"But, Paige, I thought… I mean, what about your daughter? Don't you want her to be able to rule?" Ed seemed genuinely confused.

**Not like this, Ed. Not like this.**

Now Ed stood, too. "But Eliza, I'm in love with you! Doesn't that mean anything to you? Don't I deserve some acknowledgement of my feelings?"

Paige shook her head sadly. **If you truly loved me, you would **_**want**_** me to be with Andrew, because he's the one **_**I**_** want. If you loved me, you wouldn't be trying to force me to acknowledge you.**

"What are you saying, Paige? You went out to Granny's with me a couple of weeks ago, and tonight you came here. Why would you do that if you had no intention of being with me?"

**Back home, you were my protector. And I **_**thought**_** you were my friend. People spend time with friends, too, you know! It doesn't have to be about "romance."**

"But, Paige, you don't understand –" Ed started, gripping Paige's arm hard. She interrupted him by slapping him across the face with the opposite hand, which made him let go.

**Don't you **_**ever**_** put your hands on me again. And don't bother coming back to the Farm; if all you can think about is yourself, you're not wanted there. **Paige turned to walk away, but then turned back to add, **And stay away from me.**

Ed watched her walk away. How had it all gone so wrong?

* * *

><p>Paige hurried away. She felt she should have seen this coming. She'd had reservations about spending time with Ed, once she figured out how he felt about her. She should have known he would read way too much into her actions.<p>

Tears blurred her eyes, and as she turned down a path that led away from the docks, she never even saw Mike farther along. But he was so deep in thought that he didn't notice her, either.

She started across the street without looking, but it was dark out, and she knew she would have seen the headlights if anything was coming. She didn't hear the sound of the approaching car, and when it whipped around the curve, and the headlights suddenly swept across her, she froze for a moment. Her heart leaped into her throat.

Suddenly, Paige jumped forward. Her foot caught on the sidewalk as the car swerved away from her, tires screeching loudly. She fell heavily on her side, but her momentum carried her on, rolling her onto her stomach. Paige wished she could scream. That hurt! Was the baby okay?

The car barely slowed down and soon disappeared into the night. Paige shifted until she could lie on her back. Tears ran down her temples into her hair as she trembled, cradling her stomach, her mind paralyzed with fear.

* * *

><p>Andrew had waited to get Sir Elrick alone. The only chance seemed to be in Elrick's chambers, after Eliza had retired for the night. They sat in armchairs that looked unyielding, but were more comfortable than they appeared. The knight seemed nervous, which pleased Andrew. Did the young man realize that Andrew knew of his feelings for the princess? Was he afraid Andrew would be angry?<p>

"I have something of a quandary, Sir Elrick," Andrew said. Let the short man squirm a bit.

Elrick swallowed before replying. "I shall help you in any way I can, Prince Andrew." His eyes were wary and his tone formal.

With a ghost of a smile on his lips, Andrew let the silence grow for several moments before speaking again. "If you knew that someone had hired a man to kill the woman you loved, what would you do?"

His face hardening, no doubt at the thought of danger to Eliza, Elrick said, "I would kill him, Sire."

"And if you discovered that the one responsible was someone dear to you? Perhaps even a member of your own family? For instance, your mother?" Andrew's tone was mild. This young man had been trained by Sir Ryan, one of the greatest knights to ever grace Eliza's kingdom, and one who was renowned for seeing deeper into the enemy's strategies than most.

Elrick paled. "What could induce a man's mother to have his beloved killed?"

"Who can say what moves a woman's heart? Especially a mother's heart?"

"Well," Elrick said slowly, thinking hard. "Perhaps a mother would believe the woman bad for her son. A mother might _think_ she is doing what's best, however wrong she may be."

"I see," Andrew said. "And how, then, would you deal with this situation?"

"I would… cut all ties with her, of course," Elrick said, though his voice betrayed him. It would hurt him deeply to do such a thing, and though Andrew didn't like it, he realized that he and Elrick were more alike than he had thought. "I would never speak to her again, or see her, or anything." Elrick swallowed, then added, "But if she could somehow prove that she was sorry, and that she would never do anything like that again, I would forgive her. I – I'd never be able to trust her again, not fully, but I _would_ forgive her."

"And how could she prove that she truly repented her crime?" Andrew asked.

"I don't know," Elrick said softly. "I don't know."

After a long moment of silence, Andrew stood and said, "I apologize if I disturbed your rest, Sir Elrick. Thank you for indulging me. Your answers have proven… most insightful."

The young knight stood, too, and he as he looked up into Andrew's eyes, Elrick seemed confused. They bid each other good night, and Andrew didn't look back as Elrick closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Ed meandered disconsolately along the docks. He was hoping that if he followed the sound, he could find that big boat he could hear moored somewhere nearby. That wouldn't make things better by any means, but he had always liked the big boats.<p>

The screech of tires barely even registered for him.

He noticed a large tackle shop ahead, and walked alongside it. The smell of fish was strong here, and though he had only lived with his fisherman father for seven short years before being sent to the castle to become a knight, that smell seemed like home to him. It wasn't just the fish themselves, it was their blood, their scales, all of it. Fish had been gutted here, and strange though it might seem to some, that was comforting to Ed. Before he had learned to walk, he had watched his father and his older siblings carefully, so by the time they trusted him with a knife, it only took him a few tries to gut and fillet a fish properly.

Ed leaned against the wall for a while, just breathing in the scents. Eventually, he noticed the sound of footsteps. Listening more closely, he noticed that the sound got louder and softer in turn, as if someone were pacing. Now that he was paying attention, the occasional soft muttering reached his ears. Maybe someone was in a bind, maybe he could help. That's what a knight was supposed to do. It was hard to be sure on these docks, so much larger than those of his village back home, but given the way sound carried across the water, he thought the person must be on a dock beyond the tackle shop.

Ed decided to walk around the side of the tackle shop that overlooked the water, even though that would be taking the long way.

* * *

><p>Mike didn't want to go home, so he just walked. He headed for the docks. His own kingdom had been landlocked, and in the time he'd spent in Eliza's kingdom, he hadn't yet made the trip to the coastal town that shipped the Blueberry Kingdom's goods, so it was only here in Storybrooke that he had come to love the sound of the ocean. And for him, it was more the sound than anything else. The sight of boats and waves alone didn't mean much to him, so the fact that it was dark out didn't matter. He could still hear the wild sounds of the sea.<p>

The lights on the docks left parts of the boats in shadow, and cast a strange, almost glittering speckle of light on the water, which was constantly in motion. Mike found that he actually kind of liked the sights at night, with the lights bravely fighting back the darkness, but really only making things even darker out beyond their reach. The docks at night had a lonely, almost forsaken feeling, and the way the waves caught little pieces of the light and threw them back added a haunting touch of the ethereal. Overall, it fit perfectly with his mood.

He knew now that he couldn't go to Boston like he had decided to do when he first found out about Paige and Gold, but he really just needed to be away from people for awhile. Besides, Fawn was right. He was causing Paige too much pain, and until he could stop doing that, he shouldn't be around her. Also, he needed to think, to figure out what he should do, but seeing Paige every day, knowing that she was just through that wall at night, was keeping him from being able to think rationally.

And now she had found a way that she could marry him _after_ the child was born and still let the girl take the throne someday? The very thought that his own child would inherit if he just waited to marry Paige had been a balm of sorts. Maybe it was foolishness – what if Fawn was right, what if it himself he was afraid of? But Mike rejected that – after all, how could watch his own flesh and blood grow up as second-best to the child of a monster like Rumpelstiltskin?

He was too deep in thought to notice Paige ahead of him, turning down a sidewalk. But she didn't notice him, either, and she soon disappeared toward town.

The screech of brakes altered the mood somewhat, and Mike frowned in the direction of the road. Probably just some kid showing off, thinking he was such a great driver, or that it was somehow cool to spin his tires.

Mike glanced out at the water again, to watch the sparkles of reflected light in the hopes of bringing back the bittersweet, melancholy mood the night had had before that awful noise. As his eyes roved over the waves, movement out on one of the docks ahead and to his right caught his eye. A woman in a blue dress was pacing in front of an empty berth. From this distance, he couldn't make out her face, or the details of her dress, but it didn't seem to be something a woman would wear in this world, so it must have been something she wore in the land that was. She almost seemed nervous, and since the berth was vacant, Mike wondered if perhaps she was lost and couldn't find her boat. A tackle shop soon blocked his view of her, but Mike quickened his steps. If she needed help, he would offer it to her.

* * *

><p>On the dock next to the invisible pirate ship, Cora paced back and forth. "That Doctor Hopper fellow she was arguing with would be perfect," she muttered to herself. "They'll have every reason to suspect her, especially if that waitress sees her heading into his office." She was thinking of that dark-haired girl who had put her nose in Regina's business during the argument. Of course, Regina had sent her on her way quickly enough. "But he's also the most likely to have the information Hook wants." She pursed her lips, thinking. "How can I frame my daughter for his death without actually killing him?"<p>

Hearing footsteps, Cora looked up. "Well, aren't you a handsome young thing," she said, her tone almost coquettish. "Oh, no need to sulk," she teased, for she had instinctively used her magic to immobilize him, from his toes to the tip of his tongue. The only movement he could make was to breathe. She eyed him up and down, a delightful idea occurring to her. "A stalking horse," she muttered appreciatively. "Just what I needed."

With a wave of her hand, the young man vanished. She admired the new gold bangle around her right wrist, then she transformed herself into the very image of her daughter. Pushing the bangle as far up under her sleeve as she could, Cora walked quickly and purposefully toward town.

* * *

><p>Cora nearly smiled at Dr. Hopper's guarded look, but just as she knew he would, he agreed to talk. How predictable these people were! When that wretched dog barked at her, she frowned slightly. She had known he would be here, which was why she had made certain that the bangle couldn't be seen. These people would inevitably go to Rumpelstiltskin for help, and he would easily read the creature's memories. He would know what that bangle was for. But Cora knew just what to do.<p>

When Archie turned to find her right behind him, she sensed his alarm and barely held back the smirk. She grabbed him by the throat. The dog barked again, more forcefully this time, but Cora held up her hand and used the spell she had prepared. Not only would this immobilize the dog, but for several seconds, the dog would not be able to see anything but the image burned into its brain as the spell took effect. The dog would never see the magical exchange.

As the dog sat there stunned, Dr. Hopper pushed at her wrist with his hands. It was a futile effort, of course, but it had the effect she desired – her sleeve was pushed up her arm, letting his skin come in contact with the bangle. A purple smoke surrounded them. The young man was suddenly in the doctor's place, and Archibald Hopper was now a gold bangle 'round Cora's wrist. Part of the spell that exchanged the two men also made that attractive young man look like Archie. Quite aside from the necessity of having the dog watch as "Regina" choked the life out of "Archie," Cora was glad of that little detail. She did hate to watch a handsome young man die at her hands.

* * *

><p>Even though it was late, Andrew rang for Colby. This time, the man brought parchment, a pen, a jar of ink, and a blotter. "Will you be answering your brother's letter now, my lord?"<p>

"Indeed," Andrew replied, with a small smile over the man's intuitive powers. "You know how to address it, of course."

"Yes, my lord," Colby replied dryly. "The letter is already addressed; it merely awaits its content."

Andrew couldn't help chuckling over that. "Very well, then. Begin it thus: 'My brother, I have given much thought to our delicate situation with Mother. After some very good advice, I believe I have our answer. Send a messenger to her. Inform her that the food and supplies will continue to be sent, but that no further news of either of her sons will reach her ears from reliable sources. There will be no further familial visits, especially not from myself. Also, I believe that the bearers of all future goods to our mother should now be required to leave them somewhere for her to retrieve, so that she cannot try to work on their sympathy for the information she craves. Unless, of course, you can discover servants who are mute, and perhaps deaf as well. I will leave the specifics of this punishment to you, but these are my suggestions. I believe this will be the worst punishment she could receive.'" Andrew stopped to consider his next words. "'However, brother, I also believe that we should make a proviso. If she can convince you that she truly repents her action against my betrothed, she may again begin receiving news of us, especially of me. I still love our mother in spite of herself, and I feel no shame in admitting it. That she hired an assassin to kill the woman I love – it breaks my heart. But I would not disown her simply because she gave in to her emotions. She wants only the best for me, but she fears that I will be left powerless and cuckold by my future Queen. I know not if that stems from a distaste for the idea of a woman ruling, or if it is jealousy that she could not have borne our father's crown herself. Perhaps it is something else entirely, but my point is that she seems to believe that marrying Eliza would not be in my best interest. She is trying, however wrongfully, to protect me.'"

Pausing for a moment, Andrew drank a little of the wine punch in his goblet to wet his throat. "'I apologize if it pains you to hear this, Tristan. I know she has never thought particularly well of you, but during my last visit, she was quite anxious for news of you and your son, and even went so far as to tell me that she had come to realize that she truly did care for you. I did not tell you then, for which I am deeply sorry, but at the time, I wasn't sure if I could believe that she spoke the truth. All the thinking I have done recently has led me to realize that she is lashing out because she fears to lose _both_ of us. This is why I think we should include that proviso, because if we leave her no hope of regaining our trust, she may do something _truly_ rash.'"

After another sip of punch, Andrew changed the subject, telling his brother about his life in the Blueberry Kingdom, and updating Tristan on the struggle to find a way to save Eliza's brothers from the spell they were under.

* * *

><p>"Paige, are you alright?" Gold stepped into the hospital room. He wanted to rush over to Paige, but his own insecurities kept him a few feet away from the bed.<p>

**I'm scared,** she admitted, a tear streaking down her face.

"What happened, dove?" His face was guarded, as if he were afraid of his own emotions.

**Ed, he… we kind of argued, I guess, and I was rushing home, but when I crossed the road, I didn't see the car. It came around the curve so suddenly, and all I saw was this blinding light. I froze at first, but then I jumped out of the way. I landed on the sidewalk, but when I hit, I rolled on my stomach. And the car didn't even stop, and I just laid there for a while. I couldn't even think. Finally, I realized I needed help, so I texted Doctor Solano, and he called an ambulance and met me here at the hospital. **Paige took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears. **And they said I was bleeding down there, and they've scheduled me for some tests to make sure the baby's okay, and that the placenta is still attached like it should be, and what if something's wrong? What if…** But Paige couldn't finish that thought. She was afraid that if she actually acknowledged what might happen, it would jinx her.

Mr. Gold took a step closer and reached out as if to touch her, but pulled back. "Hush, dove. If you don't calm yourself, you could make things worse."

Paige looked at him. **And I'm sorry. **She drew in a trembling breath as she tried not to cry.

"Whatever are you on about, dove?" he asked softly.

**When I was in your shop, after… after Belle found out? I had no right to act the way I did about you not telling Belle. Because I was doing the same thing with Mike. I was being a hypocrite, and I'm so sorry.**

"Oh, Paige," he sighed. "You've nothing to apologize for. I've always been a coward. And I was doing it again, by pushing you away. And don't worry about Belle, she's forgiven me."

This made Paige relax a little. **I'm glad. **After a moment, she added, **Does she know you're here?** Paige looked very serious, and Gold could tell that she was afraid this would put another wedge between him and Belle.

"She does. In fact, she insisted that I sit with you until you could get ahold of someone else." He paused, noting the concern in Paige's eyes. "She said I was to stay here as long as necessary."

**Actually, just before you came in, Jane Blue texted me back. She's on her way. Mike… isn't answering. Neither is Ed. I guess I can't blame either of them.** From the look on her face, Gold assumed that Paige and Michael had fought again.

"I see," he said.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Jane came into the room. "Paige, you poor thing!" she cried, pushing past Gold to clutch Paige's hand. She smoothed Paige's hair away from her face, looking worriedly into her eyes. When she had reassured herself that Paige was not critically injured, she turned back to Gold, who had edged toward the door. "I thank you for your… _concern_," she said coldly, "but someone who actually cares about her is here now, so you needn't stay."

Gold smirked at Jane, but addressed Paige. "I'll expect to hear the results as soon as you know anything, Paige. After all, I _am_ the father." From the look he gave her, that comment was intended to make Jane uncomfortable.

Paige watched him leave, her heart aching. He was still in pain, and the fact that he had been so reserved while they were alone worried her. It wasn't just that he might not consider Paige a friend anymore, although that thought did hurt, but what if he was also losing Belle over this?

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Cricket Game." The chapter actually ends before Emma and Ruby discover the corpse that they believe to be Archie's.

It never sat well with me that we didn't discover who was actually killed to fake Archie's murder, and I decided that my story would answer that question... eventually.

Hope you enjoyed, and PLEASE REVIEW!


	32. S2 Ch11 - The Glass Mountain

Here we go! As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters, plotlines, etc.

As before, text that is both underlined and italicized means that Paige is writing something in a notebook for those around her to read.

Not just one, but TWO new fairy tales in this chapter! They're not as well known - _I_ didn't know them before I started writing this fic, but I have included links at the end of the chapter, so if you're like me and don't already know these stories, you can read the originals.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, King Tristan of the Wolfsbane Kingdom has finally married the Golden Hind he fell in love with, but so far has been unable to produce an heir. Later, he will discover that his mother is giving Ayala an herbal tincture that prevents conception, but at this point, he only knows that he and his wife are trying their best, to no avail.

After a small village is destroyed by Wolfs, a young man named Locke, who believes he is the only survivor, makes a deal with Rumpelstiltskin. In return for having his painful memories wiped from his mind, Locke must keep his face covered at all times, and must do anything Rumpelstiltskin asks, or that anyone else asks in the impish man's name.

~In Storybrooke, Mike and Paige have argued again, and this time, Mike decides he needs some time alone to sort things out. Ed Grove, who was Sir Elrick in the Enchanted Forest, makes a move on Paige, but is rejected. Both young men were last seen on the docks near the invisible Jolly Roger, just before Cora framed Regina for supposedly killing Dr. Hopper.

After telling Ed that she could never marry him, Paige rushes off. As she crosses the road, she nearly gets hit by a car. She jumps out of the way just in time, but lands hard and rolls right onto her stomach. In the hospital, they discover that she is spotting, and Paige fears for her unborn daughter…

* * *

><p>"But Tristan is married, now, Father!" Imogene protested.<p>

"For three years, and no sign of an heir," her father retorted. "What if humans and Golden Hinds are simply incompatible for producing children?"

Imogene made a sound like an angry cat. "Just because they haven't conceived yet does not mean they never will. I don't _want_ to marry some old man I do not love!"

Percy sighed. His daughter was just being stubborn. "You must see sense, Imogene! If your cousin and his Hind cannot produce an heir, then the succession of the throne will fall to me. Now, as it seems likely that I will _not_ outlive my nephew, that means your husband, or perhaps your son, will be _my_ heir, and thus next in line for the throne once Tristan finally dies."

"You forget, Father," she said icily, "that my cousin has a younger brother. Andrew will take the throne before either of us, you can be sure."

"Well, that will all depend on what sort of marriage is arranged for him," Percy said, smirking. "If, as I suspect, Andrew comes to wed a princess in another kingdom, he will be quite ineligible for the Wolfsbane throne."

"Can you really be sure he will wed outside the kingdom?" Imogene glared at her father. "Perhaps my cousin the King is smarter than you seem to think. Perhaps Tristan will be looking here in our own kingdom for a woman who would make a suitable queen. Andrew is but sixteen, too young to marry just yet – and so far as anyone knows, the boy is not yet betrothed. And surely the Queen's inability to conceive has Tristan worried. His father despised you, so why shouldn't Tristan make preparations to keep his father's kingdom from falling into your hands?"

"Enough of your girlish nonsense," Percy spat. "You are four and twenty; an old maid already. I should think you'd be grateful that any man would have you now. Hobart is a fine man, and he will make a fine king."

"Duke Hobart is nearly as old as you, Father, and one of your cronies besides. You always treated Mother as if she _belonged_ to you, not as if you loved her! I will not suffer as she did."

Percy gave a dry little laugh. "Loved her? Hardly! She was the spoiled sister of King Nigel, and though at first she harbored ridiculous notions of true love, I soon put _that_ nonsense out of her mind. Love is nothing more than a fantasy. Even if one finds 'true love,' such a fragile thing cannot last. Love fades, daughter, it fades from the heart like the setting sun of a day that has gone on too long. Your mother was _glad_ to finally give up on such a flimsy and unrealistic concept."

Imogene could see that her father would never be convinced. She felt a momentary pang of sorrow for the pain that must have brought him to this bleak outlook, but her sympathy was quickly surpassed by her own convictions. "Very well, then, Father," she said coolly. "If I cannot marry for love, than I shall not marry at all."

"I will see you married," Percy hissed, grabbing her arm and squeezing painfully. "If it is the last thing I do." He flung her away. "Guards!" he called. "Take her to her chambers, and see to it that she remains there until I can arrange her wedding." He looked at his daughter's horrified face for a long moment, then turned haughtily away. "Summon my scribe. I have a rather important letter to dictate."

* * *

><p>Paige hated this. Lying in bed all day, getting up only to use the bathroom – it was frustrating. But she also knew it was necessary. Dr. Solano had run blood tests, and done two different sonograms, and had even hooked up some external fetal monitoring equipment. The baby had been in some distress, but not enough to truly concern the doctor. The sonograms had not shown any signs of a placental abruption, but Solano had put Paige on bed rest for a week. He wanted to check the placenta again when both she and the baby were calmer.<p>

After the initial examination, the doctor hadn't been able to detect any further bleeding, so he had concluded that the fall had likely caused a small tear in the vaginal tissue. He admitted that the spotting could have been caused by a very small abruption, but unless something showed on the next sonogram, he seemed to feel pretty confident that it was nothing to worry about, although he did warn her that if she noticed any further bleeding, however scant, she should have someone call him immediately.

Paige had texted Mr. Gold even before she left the hospital. She knew that he was concerned, no matter how reserved he had been the night it happened. It seemed like so long ago, even though this evening would only make it three full days since the accident. That was how Paige thought of it – the accident. She wondered if she would ever find out who had been driving that car.

For the duration of her bed rest, Paige was staying with Fawn and Noah. Their den was still set up as a bedroom from the time when Mike and Noah's mother had lived here, before they put her into Greensmountain Heights. Fawn was generally home all day, so it worked out well. She kept little Will out as much as she could, but despite the boy's rambunctious nature, he had his mother's instincts. He was extremely gentle with Paige, never bounding up onto the bed and bouncing it, or moving around too much once he did climb carefully up. He often reached over and patted her belly gently, which Paige found irresistibly adorable.

Will was at preschool just now, and Fawn had some laundry to wash, so Paige was alone with nothing to do. Sure, Fawn had left a collection of books and magazines, and the remote for the television was on the bedside table with Paige's water and some healthful granola to snack on. Paige had been surprised to discover that the granola was much tastier than she had expected health food to be.

It surprised her to notice the door opening slowly. "Ah, Paige," Fawn said when she saw that the mute girl was awake. "You have a visitor, sister mine."

For some reason, Fawn's endearment brought tears to her eyes. _You know, I've never had a sister before_, she wrote on her ever-present notepad. Fawn smiled warmly.

"Well, you do now," she said softly. Paige didn't even notice that someone had followed Fawn into the room until that person spoke.

"Paige, dear, I'm so glad you're alright!" It was Granny! She went on to ask, "Have you eaten any of those lasagnas I gave you yet?"

Smiling, Paige shook her head no, but wrote a note for Granny. She explained that she had actually been intending to suggest that Noah go over to her place and bring one over for the whole family to eat. She also wrote that she hoped Mike would consent to eat with them.

Fawn and Granny read the note. "Well," Fawn said, realizing that Paige must have forgotten, "I _am_ a vegetarian, Paige, but I'm sure Noah and Will would enjoy that." She didn't say anything about Mike, because she was wondering if telling him to leave Paige alone had been the right thing to do.

Blushing, Paige wrote that she should have remembered that.

"It's not something you usually have to think of," Fawn said. "I have the makings of that squash casserole you gave me the recipe for. That will by my dinner, and the rest of you can have it as a side-dish if you like."

Paige smile at Fawn. She wished she had gotten to know her better in the Enchanted Forest, so they could have started their friendship sooner. During her visit to the Wolfsbane kingdom, she had been so focused on her growing affection for Andrew that she hadn't spent much time talking to either Tristan or Ayala, and she'd certainly never had an inkling that she would hit it off so well with the Golden Hind.

Fawn returned Paige's smile fondly, then said, "Well, I'll leave you two to visit, now. The laundry isn't going to wash itself!"

Paige turned to Granny who was smiling warmly at her. Paige swallowed. She knew how Granny felt about Gold, and Granny deserved to know the truth. She wasn't sure how much alike Ruby and Granny were in temperament, but if Ruby's reaction was any indication, this wasn't going to be pleasant. Paige started writing, _Granny, you need to know the truth._ But Granny leaned over her, and as soon as she saw what Paige was writing, she put her hand over Paige's pen.

"Ruby's already told me about all of that," Granny said, her voice slightly gruff.

Pulling her pen free, Paige wrote again, this time asking how Granny felt about it.

With a smile that was both wry and fond at the same time, Granny replied, "It's hard to keep kids from making… unusual choices, sometimes. One of the first things you learn as a parent is that kids will do things you don't approve of, but no matter how much they may grieve your heart, you have to let them learn their lessons the hard way."

Paige didn't return Granny's smile. _Are you saying that I did, what I've been doing, is a mistake?_

"If it _was_ a mistake, it was yours to make, dear," Granny replied philosophically. "But according to Ruby, you genuinely care for him. There's another young woman in town who sees good in him. Maybe the two of you have seen a side of him that no one else has, or maybe you're both wrong – only time will tell. Maybe I'm too old, too set in my ways to see whatever it is that you and Belle see. But if you two _are_ wrong, no amount of lecturing on my part will make you see that." Then Granny's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Belle and Gold were in the diner just the other day." Watching Paige shrewdly, Granny said, "If you and he are two-timing her, that is _definitely_ a mistake!"

Paige's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. She hurriedly wrote, _Of course not! I could never do anything that might make him lose her! She's good for him._ Looking a little sad, Paige added another sentence. _She brings out a side of him that I never could._

Granny wasn't sure what to say in this situation, since she didn't like the man to begin with, and didn't approve of Paige's conduct with him. So she simply patted Paige's hand, smiling comfortingly. Paige smiled back.

_I care about him, Granny, and if he has a chance to be happy with Belle, I won't ruin that for him. And he feels the same way about me and Andrew. I know it must seem hard to believe, but somewhere under all that deal-making and selfishness, there really is a good man. He's just been hiding for so long._

Granny couldn't help herself; she said, "Well, that's as may be Paige, but I don't approve of what you did with him. I don't mean the price you paid, because that was to save your brothers, but after that… Well, as I've already told you, nothing I say can teach you whatever lesson you need to take away from all this." She shook her head as if to clear away the current topic. "At any rate, Paige, I came here to teach you how to knit. Since you're on bed rest for a week, now would be the perfect time."

Paige nodded her agreement.

Opening the bag she'd brought with her, Granny pulled out a pair of knitting needles and a large ball of yarn. "We can start you off on a scarf, nothing fancy, and maybe once you've got the basics down, I can help you make a sweater for Fawn and Noah's little boy, just to practice. Because I imagine I can't actually help you with the shirts you'll be making for your brothers." There was a hint of a question in her voice.

_That's right, I asked Mr. Gold about it, just to make sure_, Paige wrote.

"Well, rules of magic, and all," Granny said, keeping her voice cheerful. She had seen the hint of fear in Paige's eyes, and she knew the poor girl must be worried that she couldn't complete her task in the designated time. "That's why I think we should make one for little Will first, so I _can_ take it and actually show you how to do anything you have problems with. Now you won't finish Will's sweater by the end of the week, and maybe not even the scarf, but now is as good a time as any to start." Sitting down next to Paige, Granny took up the needles. "First, I'm going to show you how to cast on your stitches. We don't need too many for a scarf, and this will be good practice for you. Then I'll just knit a row or two so you can see how it's done."

Paige smiled at Granny, but all this talk of knitting had left her stomach in knots. She had to learn this, and quickly! Six years might sound like a lot of time to some people, but she wasn't even sure how many skeins of yarn she would need to make, which wasn't just the spinning, it was also all those nettles she'd have to pound into fibers. And then to have to knit six shirts on top of all that! She hoped her anxiety was caused by her hormones, and the aftermath of the accident, but it just seemed like a lot of work for one person to do in only six years.

* * *

><p>Imogene didn't waste any time with sulking. Her mother had given her a name. The reason her mother hadn't used it was because she found the name too late to bring her any hope of happiness. She was already dying by that time, so she passed it on to her daughter. The price, she warned, would be high, but what price could be too high for one's happiness?<p>

Opening her ornately carved walnut hope chest, she carefully set aside her mother's most treasured items. A pair of small candle holders, shaped like roses, rosebuds, and leaves, was on top, along with a ring that bore the royal seal of King Cecil, who had fathered both King Nigel and Imogene's own mother, Cordelia. Under that was her mother's wedding gown, folded carefully, with little sachets of cedar chips tucked into the folds to keep insects away. Someday, Imogene hoped to wear that gown, but only if she could marry her one true love, whoever he might be. There was also a pair of delicate slippers that were made out of glass, which she knew fit her own feet as perfectly as if they had been made for her. As much as she looked forward to wearing her mother's wedding gown, those beautiful slippers caught her fancy even more, and she sometimes practiced dancing in them when there was no one around to see her.

With reverence, Imogene gently put the glass slippers aside and lifted out the gown, setting it gently on the end of her bed. Beneath the gown lay her mother's favorite books. Imogene had never thought to ask her mother why the books were tucked away in the chest, rather than out on a bookshelf, but she assumed her mother had good reason for that, so she had left the books where they were, except when she was reading them. After all, every one of them, even the historical accounts, were full of true love conquering all, and given her father's attitude toward true love, she was starting to understand why her mother had hidden these books.

Imogene's personal favorite lay on the very bottom, and she worked quickly to uncover it. It was the story of a hero who began his life as a blacksmith, but became a great warrior. As he adventured, he first had a large axe to fight with, but eventually he forged a great battle hammer, one that was imbued with magic in its forging. He had loved a woman who was also a skilled fighter, which was a rare idea in this kingdom. His true love was also skilled in political maneuverings, and only behaved as a so-called "proper lady" when it suited her to do so. Imogene wondered if the book had come from the Blueberry kingdom, where a woman _could_ become a hero if she so chose.

There it was, _The Blacksmith and the Falcon_. She smiled to see its familiar cover, but she didn't dare take too long at this. She wanted everything put away in case her father came in to gloat after writing that letter. Just thinking of ugly old Duke Hobart made Imogene frown and say a word that wasn't very ladylike at all.

There was a bookmark in this novel, marking her very favorite passage – the moment when the blacksmith first realized that he loved the woman. The moment when he looked at her and knew he could not live without her. She took the long, thin rectangle of blank parchment that had become the bookmark and tucked it into the neck of her gown, pushing it down between her breasts where it could not be seen. Then she put everything away again as quickly as she could, but neatly, too. She treasured these things of her mother's, and would feel horribly guilty if anything got damaged because she was in too much of a hurry.

Just in time, she closed the lid of her chest and placed the folded blanket back on top of it. She heard the door of her chamber starting to open. She threw herself across her bed, trying to act as if she'd been there sulking this whole time.

Percy was a shrewd man, but all his opinions of women were tainted by memories of his sister. She had been their parents' favorite, and was a spoiled brat who would sulk and pout when things didn't go her way. His mother was of a similar temperament, so she had always given in eventually, which only made his sister worse – and then when she took ill and died at 15 years of age, his parents seemed to never forgive him for surviving the same illness. And so, Percy believed that all women cared only for being given every little thing their hearts desired, and as far as he was concerned, women only desired frivolous things. So he never even noticed that his daughter was trying to _pretend_ she'd been crying; he simply took it for granted that she had cried her eyes out while he wrote the letter.

"Just as soon as the Duke receives my letter, he will begin preparations for your wedding feast," Percy said in a brisk, no-nonsense voice. "He will send a reply telling us the exact date he is planning, and I will take you to him." He looked at Imogene sternly. "Now, do not even dream of running away, for you will remain in the carriage for the entire journey. That will mean nearly two days of constant travel, but given your silly, girlish tantrum, I would not trust you in an inn. Don't fret, though, I will make sure that we arrive with a few days to rest before your marriage takes place." He seemed to think that this was a kindness. "And you may as well cry yourself dry now – I don't imagine Duke Hobart will enjoy his wedding night very much if your face is ugly with tearstains."

Imogene knew her father would think she was throwing a tantrum no matter what she said to prove the contrary, so she simply said exactly what she wanted to. "I will _never_ marry him, Father, nor _any_ vile man you choose."

Percy smiled wryly and shook his head. "Duke Hobart and I came upon this idea some months ago, Imogene. Your foolish notions of love and romance are nothing more than a child's fancy. It's about time you grew up." He paused as he realized something. "Since your mother is no longer with us, I'll have one of the maids come along and explain the duties of the marriage bed to you. Unless you already know of such things?"

Imogene screamed, "Get out!" She threw a pillow from her bed at her father, but he simply ducked and gave her a tight smile.

As he stood in the doorway, Percy said, "I will be sure to inform your future husband that you seem to enjoy throwing your childish little tantrums. Perhaps _he_ can find a punishment that will show you the error of your ways."

The door closed, and another pillow hit, just where her father's face had been. Duke Hobart was nearly 60, and his breath always smelled strange. She would _never_ go to his bed, or to the bed of any man she did not love! The thought that her father could marry her off to a man more than 30 years older than herself made her angry. But there was an upside to all of this.

Since her father believed that she was throwing a tantrum, he would not only avoid her chambers himself until at least after supper, but he would also keep out all the maids. He seemed to think that if he deprived her of human contact, not to mention supper, that she would calm herself and be more agreeable simply so she wouldn't have to be alone. But Imogene had never minded being left alone. Usually she would read one of her mother's hidden books at a time like this, or practice dancing in the glass slippers, but now she had something much more important to do.

Removing the scrap of parchment from her bosom, she held it near the flame of a candle in one of the wall sconces. Her mother's neat handwriting appeared. Imogene smiled. She knew that the enjoyment of invisible ink was a bit childish, but she liked knowing that she and her mother could still share a secret, even after her mother was long gone. The name was an unusual one, so she sounded it out. "Rum, pel, stilts, kin," she read out, slowly. But it didn't seem to do anything. She didn't know what her mother had expected from this name, but was it all for naught? Her heart sank, and she sighed heavily.

"My, my, my, dearie, you seem a little… down," came a strange, lilting voice from behind her.

She spun, wide-eyed and breathless, to find a strange-looking little man behind her. "Are you…"

"Rumpelstiltskin," the imp said cheerfully. "At your service, dearie – for a price." He chuckled, and it wasn't a very nice sound. "What is it you want?"

"Well, my father –" Imogene started, but Rumpelstiltskin cut her off.

"No, no, no," he said quickly, putting up one hand as if to hold her words at bay. "Just tell me what you _want_, dearie. I already _know_ the whys and wherefores."

Imogene blinked. "But… if you know all that, then surely you know what I want," she said softly.

"Yes, but I need to hear _you_ say it," he said. "That way, you have no one to blame but yourself if you don't like the results."

She swallowed hard. She had never thought before that whatever she asked for might not turn out to be what she wanted. "I want… I want to marry _only_ my one true love," she said. "If I stay here, Father will see me wed to an old crony of his, all supposedly in the interest of politics. I will _not_ marry for some kind of advantage, real _or_ imagined. So I need to know where I must go to find my true love. Or to have him come and take me away from this awful place." She thought of the romantic adventures in her mother's books, of the hero overcoming terrible obstacles to sweep the princess off her feet, and carry her away to marry her, so they could live happily ever after.

"Oh, I can take you to a place where your true love will find you, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said, a cunning look in his eye.

"Can I take my hope chest? I'm afraid Father will do something terrible to Mother's things when he finds out I'm gone." As much as Imogene feared that her father would destroy the books and rip up the wedding gown, she was most afraid that he would smash those beautiful glass slippers. That was a thought she could not bear.

"If you pay my price, dearie, you can take anything you like, so long as it _belongs_ to you," he replied. His emphasis on the word "belongs" made Imogene nervous. What did he want from her? It must be something she would be loath to part with. But before she could ask, he gestured with his hand. The lid of her hope chest flew open, the folded blanket landing in an ungainly heap on the foot of her bed. Casually reaching in, Rumpelstiltskin pulled out – the glass slippers! "These'll do nicely, I think," he said, taking a few steps toward Imogene as he inspected the slippers closely. He couldn't explain it, but he just knew that these would come in handy some day. Ever since that red-headed seer had given him her powers, he'd been having moments like this. Sometimes he felt like a magpie, collecting random things because he "just knew" that he'd want them someday.

Imogene let out a small cry, but she couldn't speak. Not her mother's glass slippers! "Please, no," she whispered. "Anything but –"

"Well, then, dearie, I suppose you'll have to marry the aged Duke after all," he chortled, turning back to her hope chest.

She tried to speak, but the first time her voice just squeaked, so she swallowed and tried again. "Wait," she said softly. Rumpelstiltskin turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "No, I'll…" she said, her heart breaking. Her mother had warned her that the price would be steep, but if this would bring her true love into her life… She took a deep breath and tried to firm her resolve. "I'll pay your price." Her voice was almost steady, but she stared hungrily at the glass slippers, trying to burn their image into her memory.

"Well, then, just sign here," Rumpelstiltskin smirked. She looked at the contract that had appeared in his other hand, and when she glanced back, the slippers were nowhere to be seen.

Imogene signed the scroll, and turned to look sadly at her hope chest. "Where do I –" she started, but when she looked up, she was alone, but no longer in her own bedchamber. She now stood in a room she'd never seen in her life. The bed was not hers, nor was the vanity or the wardrobe, but her brush lay on the vanity, and through the partially-open door of the wardrobe, she could see her own clothes peeking out at her. The only familiar piece of furniture was the large walnut hope chest her mother had passed down to her.

* * *

><p>Little Will sat on the bed and watched, fascinated, as Paige practiced knitting. It still felt extremely awkward, and she really wished she had actually paid attention when her mother had tried to teach her. Even though the scarf Granny had started for her wasn't that wide, it seemed to take forever just to finish a single row.<p>

Noah was at her house right now, getting the lasagna, and her finished skeins of yarn. She only had four fully finished, and the one still on the spinning wheel wasn't quite half full yet. According to Granny, it was easier to knit with the yarn in a ball rather than a skein. The balls were less likely to get tangled, and since Paige was rather limited in what she could do right now, she figured she might as well take care of it now rather than wait until later. From now on, though, she wouldn't even bother making the skeins. It would be faster just to roll it into a ball as she took it off the bobbin.

She had also asked Noah to bring her the lead-lined box, though she hadn't described the key or what it did. However, she did tell him that it was a magical object that could only be touched by her, so he would know to be careful with it. Noah was also going to ask Mike if he'd be willing to come to dinner. They hadn't told Will about that part; Fawn had told Paige that Mike had argued with her and Noah, which had upset Will pretty badly, so they didn't want to get his hopes up that his uncle would be there to reconcile.

The door opened, and Paige looked up, almost glad for an excuse to put down that bothersome knitting. It was Vicki! Paige knew she lived nearby, and sometimes watched Will for Fawn and Noah. Paige smiled, almost ruefully. She wasn't sure her doctor would let her go back to Vicki's class at the gym. But when Dr. Solano followed Vicki into the room, Paige was startled for a moment. Then she remembered that Dr. Solano had once told her that Vicki was his wife.

Will crawled carefully off the bed, then careened across the room to fling himself at the couple. "Aunt Vicki, Uncle Bray!" Paige felt her mouth drop open. She didn't think that these two could be related to Fawn, since she was a Golden Hind, which left Noah. And if Noah was related to them, then so was Mike.

Vicki, smiling as she kissed Will on the top of his head, caught Paige's stunned expression. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "It looks like no one told you that Braden and I are related to your fiancé. Noah and Mike are my cousins – their father and my mother were brother and sister." She grimaced slightly. "We weren't close back in our world. There was… bad blood between King Nigel and my father. Which is, well, not surprising. My father was… not exactly an agreeable man."

Dr. Solano snorted. "That's putting it mildly." He was about to say more, but Vicki elbowed him sharply in the side. She nodded toward Will, who was over by the bedside table, playing with a toy car he'd brought in.

"Little pitchers have big ears, darling," she said briskly. Her husband rubbed gingerly at his side, frowning, but he nodded thoughtfully. Turning back to Paige, Vicki said, "Fawn tells me you're supplying lasagna for dinner, would there be enough for three more? Seth might not eat much; he's been picky about food lately."

**Well, yes, but… won't that be a big mess?** Paige signed.

Dr. Solano smiled. "Well, of course. Even if he doesn't eat it, he'll probably get it everywhere trying to figure out what it is. But that's half the fun of the early toddler stage," he joked. "Don't worry, you'll be there before you know it. Just don't expect to keep the clothes unstained. Not your daughter's clothes or your own." He and Vicki shared a knowing smile, and Paige's heart ached. She desperately hoped that she and Mike would share those same kinds of moments in her daughter's life. Not just the milestones, but the little things, like feeding her lasagna for the first time.

To change the subject, Paige asked, **So you weren't close to Tristan and Andrew in our world? But… you are now?**

Dr. Solano translated, and Vicki nodded in response. "We were practically neighbors during the Curse, and we were friendly enough. Once the Curse was broken, Noah and I sat down and had a little talk. Turns out it was just our fathers that couldn't get along, and I know it was because my father tried to put in a claim for the throne when the kingdom started to fall apart while my grandfather was on the throne. And because of his selfish, greedy, conniving personality." She looked bitter, and Paige could see that she had grown to hate her father.

Vicki took a trembling breath to try to calm herself. Then she looked up suddenly and said sharply, "Will! Put that down! No snacks this close to dinner time!" The boy hurriedly put the container of granola back on the bedside table, his eyes wide and innocent as if he had never intended to actually _eat_ any of the granola. But before he could do more than bluster as he tried to figure out how to lie without it seeming like a lie, Vicki continued, "Why don't you run along and see if your mother needs any help. I suspect Seth is being a regular pest and getting in her way, but I bet he'd go and play with you so she can get that squash casserole in the oven."

Will brightened up immediately. "Mmm-kay!"

* * *

><p>Paige could hear the family talking quietly in the living room. Being on bed rest, she hadn't been able to eat with the family, but Fawn had sent someone in frequently to make sure Paige had everything she needed. It wasn't until after dinner that Vicki had broken the bad news.<p>

She was lying on her side, and her silent tears were making a wet spot on the pillow. How could Dr. Hopper be dead? He was such a sweet man, who would never hurt a fly. He didn't deserve to be murdered.

And to make things worse, Mike hadn't come over for dinner. Paige hadn't had a chance to ask what he had said to Noah, but right now, that didn't seem quite so important. Archie, dead! Not just dead, but murdered! Paige waited to feel angry at Regina for this, but all she felt was tired, and emotionally drained.

"Paige," came a soft voice around the door, which was open a little. "Paige, you 'wake?" Will's little face appeared in the crack, pushing the door open a little wider. Wiping away her tears, Paige managed a small smile.

Will pushed all the way into the room, his little cousin Seth clinging to his hand. "Here, Sef," Will said, leading the toddler over to the side of the bed. "This is Uncle Mike's girlfwiend, Paige. She likes peek… peek… um, peekots!"

Paige couldn't help but smile. At least "peekot" was closer than "peek-on." Little Seth stared gravely at her for a moment, one finger in his mouth. He was all cleaned up now, but Vicki had taken some video on her phone and shown it to Paige. He had made an enormous mess, and Paige wished she had been there to see it in person.

Taking his finger out of his mouth, the 16-month-old reached out, pressing his wet finger against Paige's tear-stained face. "Pay!" he crowed loudly, looking pleased with himself.

"What's he getting into now," Vicki said as she entered the room. She smiled at Paige, but her eyes were sad. She had known that Paige was a patient of Dr. Hopper's, and though she herself had only met him around town, she had gathered that he was the sort of man that almost everyone liked.

Will looked up at Vicki as he pointed to Paige. "He said her name! But he didn't say it right, but he _did_ said it!"

Smiling warmly at Will, Vicki knelt in front of him. "It's 'he did _say_ it,' Will, not 'he did _said_ it."

"Say it, say it," Will repeated, a bit impatiently. "He did _say_ it."

"That's better," Vicki said. "And it will be awhile yet before he can say things correctly. You're still working on pronouncing a few things yourself, and he's a lot younger than you, you know."

"Yep, I'm kind of like a big brother," Will said self-importantly. "Essept not really."

Vicki couldn't help but laugh, and it made Paige smile, too. Dr. Solano came into the room, since they were getting ready to head home for the evening. After putting Seth's coat on, the doctor and his wife said goodbye to Paige.

Paige knew she should work more on the scarf, but she couldn't seem to make herself pick up the needles.

* * *

><p>Imogene had made her way through the tiny castle she had found herself in. There were three maids and a cook, and she found a note from Rumpelstiltskin explaining that these were enchanted golems that would disappear once her true love found her. They were there for the cooking, the cleaning, and the general up-keep of the castle, but she found them rather unsettling. Their eyes had no spark of life, and they were silent – they didn't even seem to breathe.<p>

When she stepped out into the gate yard, she gasped. Just outside the gates, which would not open, stood an apple tree full of the most beautiful golden apples. They were all ripe, and not a one had fallen on the ground. They smelled delicious, and Imogene wished she could taste one.

Suddenly, she saw past the apple tree. The view was simply breathtaking! It stretched on and on, and she knew she must be on the top of a mountain. She rushed back to her chambers, to the balcony off her small sitting room. The sun was just setting, and she stood transfixed.

As the last edge of the sun slid below the horizon, a flash from below caught her eye. It looked like this whole mountain was made of glass!

She had to wait until the next morning to confirm it. Without actually being able to leave the castle, she couldn't be completely certain, because the courtyards all seemed to bear ordinary sod underfoot. The glass sides of the mountain were very steep, as if this little piece of ground had been lifted up onto a tapering glass pedestal.

At first, she looked at the glass often. It sometimes sparkled in the sun, and almost seemed to glow at sunrise and sunset. But as the days turned into weeks, the glass started to remind her of her mother's slippers. She knew she would never see them again, and part of her felt incredibly guilty. Had she betrayed her mother's memory by giving them to that vile little man? She began to fix her gaze on the horizons, watching the risings and settings of the sun and the moon. But no matter how hard she tried, the glass still caught her eye sometimes.

_~~Two Years Later~~_

"I will give you anything," Percy said. "Please. My daughter needs to come back down to earth and face reality."

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "The only way to get her down is for someone to conquer that mountain and rescue her."

"I've tried that," Percy said, unable to hide his irritation. "But those few who manage to get more than halfway are attacked by that accursed eagle!"

The impish man continued, almost as if he hadn't been interrupted – but there was a tightness to his voice. "More to the point, the man who rescues her must also marry her. And there is only one man in the world who can reach the top!"

Percy's eyes narrowed. "Very well," he said. He knew that the man who could scale the glass mountain would have to be a very powerful man, and all knights were technically noble, although some were of a higher caliber than others, but any nobility would be better than none. Unfortunately, Duke Hobart had passed away last year – but in some ways, that actually made this a bit easier. Percy would have hated to go back on his word to a friend.

The search was still on for a suitable wife for the king's brother, Andrew. And Tristan himself was still without an heir.

"Also," Rumpelstiltskin said shrewdly, "for the first seven years of his… 'guard-duty,' the eagle is invincible. So… you'll have to wait."

Well, Tristan had been five years so far without an heir. What was another five years? As much as Percy would like to have the throne for himself, he also knew how to be patient. It would be enough to see his daughter and her husband on the throne, with a grandson on the way to secure their line. Perhaps he could even persuade them to name their son after him. After all, he had not been a young man when he married Cordelia. He would hold on to see his daughter married to this powerful man, and hopefully long enough to arrange an accident that would make his daughter the heir. Then he could die in peace, knowing that the kingdom would be out of the hands of Nigel's family.

"I understand. I will wait," Percy said. He reminded himself of the old adage that good things come to those who are willing to wait.

"Good," the strange little man smirked. "Although I would remind you to be careful what you wish for – you may not like the results! You dunnae have any idea what the man will be like."

Percy snorted. "As if I cared. Clearly, only a knight will be strong enough to defeat the eagle, and so long as he's of noble blood, it matters not what sort of man he is."

Rumpelstiltskin smiled, a slow, evil smile that should have made Percy's blood run cold. "If you say so, dearie," he said. "Well, then, let us discuss the price."

"As I said," Percy replied, almost derisively, "I will pay anything you ask."

"That," Rumpelstiltskin said, pointing at something on the wall off to one side and almost behind him. His eyes, however, never left Percy's face.

As Percy looked over to see what the imp was pointing at, his ruddy complexion paled visibly. "But that – that's a family heirloom, of no value to anyone not of my bloodline! I thought you said we were going to _discuss_ the price!"

"Oh, but that's taken care of, now, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said cheerfully. "You've promised me anything I want, and I told you what it is. Price… discussed." He drew back a little, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Unless you want to find out what happens when you go back on your word to me."

Ignoring the peril in the impish man's eyes, Percy cried, "But that axe – that goes back to the founding of the Wolfsbane kingdom! That was the weapon of the soldier who warned Firend of Rolph's plot. The man who became King Firend's most trusted advisor!" Percy was proud of his heritage, and had displayed that axe prominently ever since his father handed it down to him. It hadn't been used for battle in many years, because Percy's family had not wanted to risk any damage to it. They didn't know what Rumpelstiltskin did – that axe had been enchanted by a sorcerer.

It had a very long handle, with two wicked blades at the top. Above those crescent-shaped blades, a sharp spike crested the handle, sticking up almost a foot above the tips of the blades. Moreover, it would never break, and it would never fail to defeat any opponent, so long as the person wielding it had mastered the use of it. The blades and the spike would not dull easily. This weapon was one that had been enchanted by a sorcerer who had died long before Rumpelstiltskin himself was even born.

"You gave your word, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said grimly, the threat clear on his face.

Finally, Percy felt a chill from the look in the imp's eyes. He realized that he had not taken the Dark One seriously until now. "Of – of course. You're right. Please, take it." His voice was hoarse as his mind conjured up the most awful tortures. He knew Rumpelstiltskin's reputation. The man was cruel, and quite good at keeping people alive so he could make them suffer over and over. Percy tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He should have been more careful of his words.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled, and said, "Very well, in five years, your darling little princess will be rescued from her glassy solitude!" His voice was ironic when he said the word darling, since he knew how little Percy valued any female. No, Percy's only interest in her was in the connections she could make if she married well. Rumpelstiltskin smirked deviously. If only Percy knew…

The impish little man disappeared, and Percy's precious family heirloom, that magnificent battle axe, was gone from its place of honor on the wall.

_~~Nearly Five More Years Pass~~_

Finn worked hard at the puzzles his teacher had set him. Finegas was a wise man, a poet, but Finn was not yet permitted to try his hand at poetry. Of course, that didn't stop him from composing verses in his head, but he daren't write them on paper just yet. If Finegas found out, he might refuse to teach him anything else.

At the age of 21, Finn had been considered too old to be taught. None of the other wise men would teach him, so Finn did everything he could to please old Finegas. If Finegas said poetry was over Finn's head, then Finn would not write out a single rhyme. Besides, the short lines he made up in his head sounded silly and artless. Perhaps he was simply not cut out for composing poems, but he wanted to learn everything he could.

Growing up poor had taught Finn to value the good moments in life, however few and far between, but these past three years had been the best he'd ever had. He had spent most of his young life working wherever he could – with the men who felled great trees and floated them downriver to the sawmill, with blacksmiths, and well-diggers, or in any shop that would have him, though that had been rare. He would do whatever small jobs the men didn't wish to do themselves – jumping into the icy waters to untangle the logs from the weeds in the river, working the bellows that kept a blacksmith's fire hot, bringing food and water around to men at work, sweeping a shop's floor and scrubbing up the mud that customers tracked in. Sometimes, a man would agree to give him food or a little bit of money for a job, but as soon as the foreman found Finn, he was out on his ear.

In order to support himself and his brother and sisters, Finn did anything and everything he could. His only brother was younger than him, and lamed by a difficult birthing. Finn's mother had died that night, and his father drank himself to death within a year. When they got a little older, his sisters had been able to take on jobs of sewing and embroidery, and they were both married off now. But until his little brother had died a few years ago, Finn had supported him. There had never been time for any sort of learning.

He had struggled to read and write, but just a few months ago, Finegas had deemed his penmanship exemplary. Finn was now 24, and felt that he had learned a lot – but there was still so much more!

He looked up from the puzzle he was trying to solve. It was something about distances, and how three people walked at different speeds, and rested for different lengths of time. Finn was supposed to be able to decide who reached the goal first, but it was somewhat confusing. As he cast his eyes about his teacher's property, he caught sight of the man with his fishing net. Finn smiled. In spite of being a wise man already, Finegas wanted more knowledge. He had bought this land because the Salmon of Knowledge had been seen in the waters of this river. Finn wasn't sure if the Salmon was real, but he knew that it was Finegas' own quest to keep gaining knowledge that had prompted him to take in a student so far beyond the age of learning. If it _was_ real, though, Finn truly wished his teacher luck.

* * *

><p>Archie's funeral was today. Dr. Solano had told Paige that she couldn't go. She understood, but at the same time, it made her sorrow worse. She couldn't even go and say goodbye like everyone else who wanted to. What galled her the most was that the very next day, in the afternoon, she had her appointment to determine whether or not the baby was in any real danger. There had been no further bleeding at all, and she had even felt the baby kick a few times, and Paige had a sense, deep down in her heart, that everything was fine, but Dr. Solano wanted what proof the tests could give.<p>

Three nights ago, when the Solano family had come for dinner, it turned out that Mike hadn't even been home. But Noah had reassured Paige that Mike did this sometimes. He would go off on his own to think, to try to make a decision from a completely rational, unemotional viewpoint. The wry tone in Noah's voice had shown that he felt it was impossible to remain unemotional in this situation, and Paige agreed.

She was surprised by a soft knock on the door. Dr. Horne came in, and a young woman Paige didn't recognize was with him. "Be you resting, sweet girl?"

**I can't, not today,** she signed.

"Well, truly, I am being very sorry to bother you in this way, but this is Lydia Grove. She is having a question to ask of you," Horne said.

"Hello, Princess," Lydia said shyly, stepping forward. "My brother… Ed? I mean, Sir Elrick, back home… Where is he?"

Paige blinked. She had forgotten that Ed had a sister. She was about two years older than Ed, but every bit as short as he was. **What do you mean?** Paige signed, knowing Horne would translate.

Lydia scuffed her shoe against the floor. She seemed nervous. "We haven't seen him in a few days. Um, not since a few nights ago, when he said he was going to take you for a walk on the docks." She glanced up at Paige. "We just thought… I mean, since you're going to marry Ed, we figured he was at your place. But he isn't answering his phone, so we asked at the Farm, but Mrs. Blue told us about your… accident. And that you were here. And Dr. Horne agreed to bring me over so I could ask."

Paige's mouth had fallen open. **I am **_**not**_** going to marry your brother, and I told him so that night on the docks. I haven't seen him since then, and I'm not sure that I want to.** She could feel her temper rising, but she was angry with Ed, not poor Lydia, so she tried to suppress it.

After Horne had translated, Lydia turned bright red. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Your Highness! It's just – well, Ed said that your prince had abandoned you, and that your daughter couldn't rule if you weren't married, and he told us how he had offered himself to you, and so we thought… I mean… Oh, I'm so sorry, Princess!" She collapsed to her knees, crying softly.

Paige felt like a monster. **Please tell her to get up, and not to cry,** she signed to Horne. **Tell her that if I hear anything from Ed, I'll let her know right away. Get her cell phone number, I can text her. But… Ed is probably just too ashamed to face anyone right now. He was so sure I was going to marry him, and I probably should have found a better way to tell him it wasn't going to happen. This is all my fault,** she added. **I was… kind of mean to him.**

Horne translated for Lydia, who replied, "I'm sorry my brother led us to believe he would marry you. He has always worshipped the ground you walk on. And thank you." When Paige looked confused, Lydia added, "For promising to let us know if you hear from him. If we hear from him first, we'll be sure to let you know, too."

Without even saying goodbye, Lydia rushed off to tell her brothers what she had learned.

Paige looked at Horne. **I'm sorry,** she signed. **I should have told you about that before. He… he tried to kiss me, and it freaked me out. And then the accident… and I just hadn't told you yet.**

"That is being of little importance, sweet girl. I am knowing of it now, and very confusing it must have been for you, to have him be kissing you and declaring his love for you in that manner. Especially since, as you have already been telling me, you had just been fighting with the man you are loving." Horne smiled fondly at Paige.

After a moment, Paige decided to change the subject. **Good Doctor, would you be willing to give the knowledge of sign language to Noah and Fawn, and maybe even Vicki? She's their cousin, and married to Dr. Solano.**

"But of course, Paige," he replied.

* * *

><p>Finn's thoughts were interrupted when a shadow passed over the paper where he was writing out his own notes and calculations for this puzzle. He looked up, expecting to see his teacher checking up on him, but instead it was an impish little man with a dusky gold complexion.<p>

"Hello," he said to the stranger, trying to be friendly in spite of the uncomfortable feeling he suddenly had.

"Hello, yourself, dearie," the strange man replied. "You were just daydreaming something rather interesting, I think."

Finn blinked, blushing a little. "What… what makes you say that?"

"Oh, you were miles away, dearie. And not heading for the solution to your puzzle, if you take my meaning," said the stranger.

Clearing his throat, Finn changed the subject. "I'm Finn. And how may I address you?"

"I am… Rumpelstiltskin!" He gave a grandiose mockery of a bow.

Something niggled at the back of Finn's mind. Had he heard this name before? He wasn't quite sure. "Well, Rumpelstiltskin, can I help you with something? My teacher, Finegas, is just over there trying to... uh, catch a fish."

"Ah, he nearly had it a moment ago, but the Salmon's eyes are magic," Rumpelstiltskin said. "He made the mistake of meeting one of those eyes, and now he lies asleep by the riverbank."

Finn jumped to his feet. Spying his teacher's prone form, he started to hurry over to wake his master up, but Rumpelstiltskin put out a hand. Finn wasn't sure why, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hear me out, dearie," the impish man said. "I've a proposal for you that I think may be… of interest."

"But Finegas…" the young man started.

"What I have to say affects him, as well," Rumpelstiltskin said.

Finn looked over at his teacher, asleep on the riverbank, and looked back at Rumpelstiltskin. "What do you mean?"

"You are… _fond_ of your teacher, yes?" When Finn nodded, Rumpelstiltskin continued. "I believe that he wishes to pursue knowledge even farther, despite his age. In short, he wishes to catch the Salmon, does he not?"

"The Salmon of Knowledge, yes," Finn said slowly, almost wonderingly. How could this strange little man know that?

"Well, dearie, I can make that happen, if you'll do me one teensy little favor."

Finn didn't even have to think about it. This would be a wonderful way to repay his teacher's kindness! "Name it!"

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "You've heard of the great glass mountain, have you not? Good. All you have to do is agree to scale the mountain and defeat the eagle, thus rescuing the princess!" the imp announced grandly.

The young man's mouth dropped open. "But… no one can do that!"

"Actually," Rumpelstiltskin said, "_you_ can. You _will_ need a bit of help in the preparation, though. If you but cross the river and enter those woods yonder at sunrise, and bear always toward the sun's first light, you will find the man who has what you need."

"And… and what is that, exactly?" Finn's face was pale. How could a poor man, still largely uneducated, possibly rescue the princess from the glass mountain?

"You'll know it when you see it, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin replied evasively.

Finn swallowed. "What if… what if I can't do it? What if I die trying?"

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "The Salmon will be caught and cooked before you leave here. So long as you… make the attempt, you'll have upheld your end of the deal. So – what say you, dearie?"

Staring at his teacher's prone form, Finn said, "I'll do it. I mean, I'll do my best."

"Then sign here, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said cheerfully. Once Finn's signature was on the scroll, Rumpelstiltskin turned. But before he sauntered away, he glanced over his shoulder to add, "Oh! And if the man in the forest is… reluctant to help, just tell him I sent you."

* * *

><p>Finn knew that it was silly to feel cheated. If he had been smarter at the time, he would have realized exactly what was said. Rumpelstiltskin only promised that Finegas would <em>catch<em> the Salmon, not be the first to _taste_ it. And it was the tasting that gave knowledge.

It was only after the incident that Finn remembered what he had heard about Rumpelstiltskin. He was the Dark One, who made deals with anyone desperate enough to give anything. The man was notorious for finding ways to make people give up the things that were most precious to them as payment for his aid.

When Finn woke his teacher up, the man was both embarrassed and excited. After all, he had nearly caught the creature he'd been seeking all these years. At Finn's urging, Finegas put out his net again, but this time covered his eyes with towel. As Rumpelstiltskin had said, the fish was caught. Finegas gave the fish to his pupil, instructing him to cook it, but not to eat even a mouthful until after Finegas had taken a bite. And Finn had readily made that promise.

Little did he know that even just the oil from the fish's flesh would count as a taste. A drop had gotten onto Finn's thumb as he cleaned and gutted the fish, and since Finegas still had the towel outside, Finn had licked the oil off of his thumb. He was so excited to see his master become the smartest man in the Wolfsbane kingdom, and perhaps the entire Enchanted Forest, that he never even realized that he had gotten smarter.

Since he had so little knowledge to begin with, the Salmon had only made him as smart as Finegas. Had Finegas received the Salmon's knowledge, it would have improved on the vast amount he already had.

But Finegas, though grieved at the loss of his dream, could not hate his pupil. He saw a bit of himself in Finn, and though Finn would not be the smartest man in the kingdom, he was pleased that such a hard-working, dedicated young man had grown in knowledge. However, he told Finn that they must part ways, since there was nothing more the young man could learn from him.

It made Finn sad, but he had to uphold his end of the bargain he'd made. And so he followed the sun's first light into the forest.

* * *

><p>As he came into a clearing, a tall, dark-haired man was skinning a lynx he had just killed. The man's face was covered by a snug cowl so that only his eyes showed. The man glanced up, then turned back to his work. Finn eyed the carcass thoughtfully.<p>

"Good sir," he said politely, "is there any way I could have its claws?" It was just as Rumpelstiltskin had said – he knew what he needed as soon as he saw it. Those claws would grip the glass quite well; they were very sharp.

Without looking up again, the cowled man said, "No." His tone was short and sounded quite final. But Finn remembered what to do.

"Rumpelstiltskin sent me for them," he said softly.

The man stiffened, and the cowl shifted against his face. Finn assumed he was grimacing in distaste. For a long moment, it seemed that it wouldn't work, but suddenly, the man cut the claws off and tossed them onto a large scrap of tough leather, which he tied with twine and threw at Finn's feet. When Finn tried to thank the man, he shifted so that his back was turned. Finn supposed he could not blame the man; after all, it seemed he owed something to Rumpelstiltskin, and that was enough to make any man uncomfortable.

* * *

><p>It was hard to get Lydia out of her mind. The girl had seemed almost painfully shy, and Paige wasn't sure if she was like that all the time, or if the poor thing was just that intimidated by the idea of speaking with the Crown Princess. But it was getting late, and Fawn was making sure Paige had everything she needed before going to bed.<p>

**Will you get down that small box Noah brought me?**

"Of course," Fawn said, handling it carefully. "If I may ask, what's in here?"

Paige hesitated for a moment, but saw no reason not to tell. **It's a silver key, one that lets me have control over my dreams. Like lucid dreaming. Everything comes from my own mind, but I can make things happen. Whatever I want.**

"I see," Fawn said softly. She was pretty sure she knew who would have given Paige such a thing, but that was Paige's business. And as she had told her husband, Fawn now realized that the good in Gold was still there, buried. However, that didn't mean she liked the man. Even though he had given her a way to be with her one true love, she still wondered what use he could have had for that piece of her horn that he kept. She was afraid that he would use it, or perhaps already had used it, in a way that might harm the forest. "I assume that is why no one else is to touch it?"

**Yes,** Paige replied. **That's why I asked you to put it up where Will can't get to it. I know children are naturally curious, and he may not realize that he shouldn't touch it until it's too late. **She gave a sad smile. **My brothers were always putting their hands on everything they could.**

Fawn put her hand on Paige's arm. "You _will_ save your brothers, sister mine. I _know_ it."

**Thank you,** Paige signed, her eyes filling with tears.

* * *

><p>In her dream, Paige was lying on her side in the full-size bed in Fawn and Noah's den. Mike was lying along the edge of the bed, facing Paige. One of his hands rested on Paige's stomach.<p>

But Paige still didn't have as much control as she would like. Mike's eyes kept giving her that accusing glare she knew all too well of late. So she closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them again, Mike had fallen asleep.

She reached out and gently caressed his cheek with her fingertips. "Oh, Mike," she whispered softly, a tear escaping from one eye. "What would I ever do without you? Please come back to me, love. Please!"

* * *

><p>That large scrap of tough leather had been enough to make a pair of rough gloves. Finn had fastened ten of the claws onto the gloves, so that each fierce claw was curled under a finger, and stuck out well beyond the fingertip. The other ten claws were attached to the soles of his boots. He was ready to climb.<p>

By nightfall, he had only made it halfway up. His mouth was parched, and though a thundercloud passed, it disdained to let even a drop of rain fall on the young man. In the climb, he had at first relied heavily on his own two feet, and the sharp claws had torn his boots to shreds even while they gripped the slippery glass securely. His boots, and the ten claws fixed to them, had fallen away down the mountain.

Finn was too tired to go any further, and he knew that he must surely die here. He fell asleep, but he had dug the claws on his gloves in so firmly that even in his sleep, he remained safe.

When he woke again near midnight, he saw the giant eagle making its rounds. It spied him, and taking him for another corpse, swooped in. Finn knew that this was his chance.

The eagle scooped him up, which Finn bore without a sound. As the eagle flew on, Finn gripped the bird's left foot with both hands. Alarmed, the eagle soared still higher, circling the mountain. Soon, they reached the top. Finn could see that, despite the hour, a light was on in the princess's chamber.

Soon, he saw the apple tree, and the smell of the golden apples enticed him so much that he used the lynx claws to cut off the eagle's left foot. With a loud, pained squawk, the bird let go, and Finn dropped heavily to the ground at the foot of the apple tree. All the stories claimed that he must eat an apple in order to gain entrance to the castle, so he plucked one without delay. When he ate it, all of his bruises and cuts disappeared, along with his fatigue. The gates of the tiny castle fell silently open.

The princess, who had watched much of this from a window in her chambers, rushed out of the castle and embraced him. She was so glad to see another person, the first one in seven long years, that she couldn't even bring herself to speak.

* * *

><p>Finn had spent the night resting on a couch in a sitting room downstairs, while the overwhelmed princess enjoyed her first good night's sleep since she had made her deal. The next morning, there was much to talk about. Imogene wanted to ask if Finn loved her, but she wasn't sure how she felt about him. So they discussed many things, until she finally asked, "And what have they said of me, down there?"<p>

Finn told her the stories he had heard, of a lovely princess escaping an arranged marriage because she sought true love. "I, um, wrote a poem about it. But… as my teacher said, poetry is somewhat above me, so it's probably not very good."

"Please," Imogene countered, "I would very much like to hear it."

"Um, okay," Finn said. He was awed by the woman before him, and though he feared she would laugh at his clumsy verses, he would do anything she asked of him. Clearing his throat, he recited,

"High upon a mount of glass,  
>Awaiting true love's kiss,<br>Sits a lonesome, lovely lass –  
>A most determined princess.<p>

She watches for him through the day,  
>And dreams of him at night –<br>That long-desired fiancé  
>Who will save her from this plight.<p>

'Twas her own choice to settle there,  
>Perched in a castle high above,<br>For she wished to never bear  
>A marriage without love.<p>

Oh, when will the suitor come to call,  
>When will the vigil end?<br>Who will make the mountain fall  
>And free the lonely heart so penned?"<p>

After he finished, he cleared his throat again. "Penned, you know, as in fenced in, or restricted, like a sheep's pen… oh, I don't mean you're a sheep, or anything, but… I'm sorry I'm such a bad poet."

"But it's such a sweet poem," Imogene said. She was not lying, either. It may not be a masterpiece of rhyme, but she rather liked the way he described her. "Please, don't be ashamed of that."

Finn took a deep breath. "I know we just met, but… I love you. I have from the first moment I saw you."

"But I am much too old to marry now," Imogene said sadly.

"How old?" Finn asked bluntly.

Blushing a little, she admitted, "I am one and thirty."

Finn looked down at the table between them. "I am four and twenty, past the age of education, yet I have just left my teacher. If I am not too old to learn, then you are not too old to marry. That is, if you would have me."

Tears began to trickle down Imogene's cheeks. "If you can love an old maid like me, then you _are_ my one true love, at last!"

They leaned in and would have kissed, but a sudden tremor shook the tiny castle. They rushed outside to see what was going on.

* * *

><p>"Well, Paige," Dr. Solano said, "everything looks good. If there <em>is<em> an abruption, it's a very small one, and we'll take some precautions just in case."

**Like what?** Paige asked, looking wary. She hoped he wasn't going to recommend bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. She wasn't sure she could handle that.

"For now, light duty," Solano replied. "No vacuuming. I want you to rest frequently, and when you do, I would prefer you to recline or lay down as much as you can. I also want you to limit your trips up and down stairs as much as possible. And I'm afraid you'll have to stop going to my wife's class, but she knows prenatal yoga, and if you'd like, she's more than happy to arrange a time for that."

When Paige raised her hands, she didn't ask the question Dr. Solano expected. **What about spinning?**

He blinked. "Spinning? As in, making yarn out of wool?"

**Basically.** Paige didn't really feel like explaining about the nettle fibers. She probably shouldn't be pounding the nettles any time soon. She rather doubted it would be considered "light" duty, but since she was learning to knit as well, she could probably manage with what she had until after the baby was born.

"Well," he replied, "I'm assuming this is for that counterspell Fawn mentioned. While I don't strictly recommend it, I'd like you limit yourself to no more than two hours a day, and not all at once. From what I know about spinning, that will probably slow you down as far as how much you can produce in comparison to spending two straight hours at the wheel, but we do want to be cautious. And if there is _any_ bleeding, however slight, I want you to text me immediately. We may still have to put you on bed rest for the duration, especially if you're not cautious."

He looked Paige directly in the eye. "I'm telling you this because I know how much you hated this past week. You have to take it easy, especially after what happened to you last week, Paige. And I get the feeling that you're the kind of person who would promise me that you'll be careful, but then just go home and do whatever you please, telling yourself that you _are_ doing it carefully. I want you to understand that I'm restricting you for very good reasons. This isn't just about _your_ health anymore, it's also about your daughter's. Whenever you're tempted to do something you know you shouldn't, think about that."

Paige nodded contritely. She really did intend to be careful, but she knew deep down that Solano was right. It would be tempting to sit at the spinning wheel for a few hours, telling herself that she would just rest longer afterward and be okay. **I'll do my best, Doctor.**

He smiled wryly. "Your best had better be, 'listen to every word the doctor says,' Paige. I'll be speaking to Fawn, and Dr. Horne, and they'll be spreading the word. There will be plenty of watchdogs around to keep you on the straight and narrow."

**Yes, Doctor.**

* * *

><p>Percy had received the message late yesterday afternoon. He had traveled through the night, and he reached the glass mountain at dawn. He had made sure to bring a minister, who could marry the young knight to his willful daughter on the spot. No more dilly-dallying, and no more nonsense about true love.<p>

His prediction that Andrew would marry outside the kingdom had proven true – although the paperwork was not officially signed, his betrothal to the Blueberry princess was the talk of the kingdom. What really bothered Percy was that Tristan's wife had finally given birth about two years ago. But if Imogene were married, and with child herself, then something could still be arranged. If Tristan were to meet an unfortunate end, a few rumors would turn the common folk against that inhuman creature that was currently queen, and against her spawn, as well.

No sooner had Percy ordered his servants to set up camp than the eagle flew down across the mountain. Blood was dripping from one leg, which was missing a foot, and where the blood landed, green things began to grow. Percy's people scattered as the eagle made straight for them. With its remaining claw, it plucked up the minister and flew back up the mountain.

* * *

><p>When Finn and Imogene got outside, they saw that the eagle had returned, and had crashed into the gate yard. A minister she recognized from her father's lands was lying nearby, dazed, but unharmed – the eagle had set him down safely before crashing into the castle. With only one foot, it was difficult to land successfully.<p>

Finn immediately felt guilty, and he ran out to the apple tree. He plucked one, and offered it to the eagle. "I don't know if you can understand me, but this will heal you," he said.

Then the eagle spoke. "Then I have no desire to partake of it, however delectable it may smell. Thou seest, small creature, I do not wish to live. Nay, I made a deal for this – seven years' service, so that I may die at the end. My life hath been long, and my decline ignominious. But we Greater Eagles seldom perish unless we are killed, and some have tried, but all have failed. It was promised me that the one who could kill me would deliver me from this service, and from this mortal coil, and thou hast done so, brave little man. And so I thank thee. Not just for thy service in ending my disgrace, but for thy kindness in offering healing to one who hast shown thee no mercy."

The Eagle struggled, and finally managed to get himself basically upright. With a fierce flap of his wings, he launched himself into the air, and flew away into the distance to die alone in the forest, as any good Eagle should do.

The minister said a soft prayer for the Eagle's soul, then turned to the princess. "Imogene, your father brought me along that you could be married to your rescuer immediately, but I am not your father. I will not force you."

Imogene smiled. "It is well, and I thank you for your kindness. But I very much want to marry Finn." When the minister looked nervous, she added, "Finn is a poor scholar. I doubt my father expected that."

The minister was startled at first, then he smiled kindly at Imogene. "You found your true love, princess! I'm so happy for you!"

He performed a short, simple ceremony, and the moment they kissed, the glass mountain began to sink into the ground. When it was all over, the tiny, somewhat battered castle sat in the middle of a wide moat, which shone like glass whenever the sun hit it just right. The apple tree fell down across the moat and became the drawbridge.

When Imogene and Finn crossed the drawbridge with the minister, leaving the now-empty castle behind them, Percy was waiting for them. "Well, Sir Knight," he greeted Finn, "where do you hail from? And of which noble family are you a descendant?"

"Oh, Father," Imogene said, with false brightness, "Finn is a poor schoolboy!"

Percy clutched at his heart and fell down. His face had gone grey, and his breathing was labored. Imogene watched anxiously as her father's physician examined him. "It's his heart," the man said a few moments later. "I fear it may be giving out under the strain."

"Oh, Father," Imogene said again, but this time her voice held sorrow. "Please don't go, not like this." She knelt beside him and tried to draw his head into her lap.

But Percy pushed away. "If you… had been a son… I would have been… a happier man. What use… is a girl… anyway?"

Imogene knew her father's opinion of women, and it surprised her to feel so hurt that he was carrying that to the moment of his death. "I always loved you, Father. No matter how much you hated me. No matter how much I fought with you."

"I… disown you. Un… grateful… wretch." Moments after, Percy died, leaving Imogene stung and grieving. She couldn't believe that her father could be so heartless even on his deathbed. She was glad her mother wasn't here to see this.

Finn held her, and she wept into his torn coat.

* * *

><p>All Mr. Gold could think of was Belle. The look on her face when he healed her, when she pushed him away, not recognizing him. That terror, as if she saw only a monster. The way she screamed when he had kissed her, hoping that true love's kiss would save her. When he realized that he was on Paige's porch, he knocked.<p>

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Outsider," and goes just a little bit into the beginning of the following episode, "In the Name of the Brother."

The Glass Mountain fairy tale can be found here: tales/the_glass_ 

The story of Fionn (whose name I have changed slightly to Finn) and the Salmon of Knowledge is here: salmon-of-knowledge

Once again, I refer here to the story a man who was once a blacksmith and becomes a legendary hero. As before, this is a nod to the character of Perrin from Robert Jordan's "Wheel of Time" novels. The woman he marries in those novels takes a name that means "falcon." Also as before, **I do not own any rights to Robert Jordan's work, nor am I in away way affiliated with the author, his estate, or the publisher of the "Wheel of Time" series.**

I do not know ABC's intentions concerning the glass slippers that Rumple gave to Cinderella in "The Price of Gold." For the purposes of my story only, he acquires them in a deal with a princess that he then places on top of a _glass_ mountain…

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW!


	33. S2 Ch12 - Her

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters, plotlines, etc.

Partway into writing Season 2, I started naming my chapters. I have now gone through my chapter titles on this site and edited them to reflect that. They read like this: S2 Ch12 - Her. The S is for the season, so all of my Season 1 chapters start with S1, Season 2 with S2, and as I go into Season 3 (and further, as the show keeps going), the pattern will continue. After the season number comes the chapter number, and the title of the chapter follows the dash.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, we have seen that Eliza's father, King Owen, despised Rumpelstiltskin long before ever meeting him. When Dr. Nerean first suggests going to Rumpelstiltskin for help with the swan spell, Owen becomes angry, reminding Nerean of how the impish deal-maker nearly lost him his one true love. Nerean seems to know all about that. However, after a comment made in another chapter, it is clear that even Sir Ryan, Owen's boyhood friend, does not know why the king is so against Rumpelstiltskin.

But in the past, Rumpelstiltskin sought out the royal descendant of a fairy. There is really only one, but in order to increase his odds of finding exactly what he needs, he makes a deal with 10-year-old Aenor, who is descended from a fairy, but is also as common as they come. In exchange for telling her the true story of her ancestor that bore a half-fairy child, he extracts a promise from her, that she will marry a king if the opportunity arises…

~In Storybrooke, Paige is relieved to discover that the baby is fine. There may still be a very small abruption, but unless further symptoms develop, she won't need to be on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. Dr. Solano does, however, put her on light duty, even restricting her spinning. But since Granny is teaching her to knit, she is trying to be philosophical about it and simply do what she can for the time being.

Ed Grove's sister has come to ask where Ed is, but Paige doesn't know. He hasn't been seen since he tried to kiss her that night on the docks. Also, Noah can't reach Mike, but reassures Paige that Mike sometimes goes off to be alone when he needs to make a big decision.

* * *

><p>"Please," the queen asked, "my son is an only child, and to ensure the succession, he must take a wife. I was not young when I bore him, and I wish to see him married, and perhaps with a child of his own, before I die. We cannot find a woman who is both suitable to the throne <em>and<em> meets with my son's approval. Truthfully, I cannot blame him. There aren't many young noblewomen close to his age, and most of them are… well, they would gladly marry Owen for his status, not for love." The queen's expression darkened as she thought of… _her_.

"Bah," Rumpelstiltskin said, waving a hand in the air as if to clear it of the topic of love. "Easily done, dearie. But, ah, what's in it for me?"

Queen Hazel beckoned him over to a table. Two large, matching jars stood on it. The base and neck of both were rounded, but the four sides had been flattened, so that it almost looked like they were meant for displaying something. "These were a wedding present from my husband's aunt," she said softly, her voice a bit sad. "She had them enchanted so that whatever is put into these jars is given protective qualities. Perhaps _you_ have no need of such a thing, but if that is so, I am sure that there are others who would make a deal with you to obtain something like this."

Rumpelstiltskin eyed the jars interestedly. He knew that a day would come when he might appreciate a little extra protection. He wasn't sure of the exact circumstances, but these jars could certainly come in handy. "Well," he said slowly, almost derisively, as if he weren't sure that they were a worthy price, "I suppose I could find _some_ way to benefit from them."

"Then please," Hazel asked, desperation touching her voice. "Please tell me how we can find a worthy woman who will love my son _and_ be a good queen!"

He stroked his chin for a moment, drawing it out even though he already knew what he meant to say. He had made his deal with that precocious little fairy descendant a few months ago, knowing that this would come to pass. Ironically enough, it seemed that the young prince and the fairy brat were each other's true love.

"Send the boy out to the Swamp of No Return. Tell him… that he should see that place, as part of his princely education," Rumpelstiltskin said, his tone grandiose and slightly mocking on those last two words. "It matters not whether he actually makes it there, for along the way, he will meet a girl who shall blossom into the woman you seek!"

Hazel gaped. "Can it really be so easy as all that?" she murmured, more to herself than to Rumpelstiltskin, but he answered anyway.

"Indeed," he said. "Just be sure take precautions – you'll want to know that the girl loves your son for himself, and not for… his station. It would break the boy's heart to suffer from another like… _her._" At the queen's shocked expression, Rumpelstiltskin smirked and waved his hand. Swirls of purple smoke appeared, obscuring the jars.

The queen turned to look at the jars, and when the smoke cleared, the jars were gone. She turned back to Rumpelstiltskin, but the room was now empty.

* * *

><p>It was her first night back at home after being on bed rest at Fawn and Noah's, so Paige was still awake enjoying it. Dr. Horne and the Blues had insisted that she not come back to the Farm right away, so she didn't have to be up too early tomorrow, although Dr. Horne <em>was<em> going to take her to breakfast at Granny's. Still, though, she was so happy to be home again that she didn't feel tired at all.

Her hair was almost dry from her bath earlier – she very seldom used a hair dryer on it, preferring instead to wrap it in a towel for an hour and then let it air dry. She was working on that stupid scarf – Granny had come by earlier in the day to check in on her, and had declared that she was getting close to being done, but Paige had come to hate that thing with a passion. She knew that, by the time she was done with her brothers' shirts, she was going to never want to see another knitting needle in her life.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door. But before she could do more than put her knitting aside and stand up, the door opened. It was Mr. Gold!

Paige couldn't quite read the look on his face. His jaw was clenched and he looked furious, but there was much more. Grief? Pain? Loss? Fear? What was he feeling aside from the anger? Paige felt her heart ache for him. Something must have happened, something awful.

When he turned his eyes to her face, his lust couldn't quite drown out the other emotions. The combination made him look dangerous, like he was contemplating doing something downright kinky to her. Paige's body responded. She felt a pleasant tightening in her loins and her breath hitched. She was both a little frightened and very turned on at the same time, and it was a heady combination. But she knew nothing would happen.

Surprisingly, Gold asked, "Can I tie you down tonight, dove?"

She licked her lips. **But what about… **_**her**_**?** she signed hesitantly. She wanted him, but she was afraid he would lose Belle. Why was he here?

He swallowed hard. "Belle is… gone. Forever."

Paige gasped, almost inaudibly. Belle, dead? Had Regina murdered her as well? She stepped forward, catching Gold's attention. He had been staring at the floor, lost in thought. Paige knew those thoughts had to be unpleasant ones.

Before she could sign anything, he said, "She was… forced across the town line. She doesn't… I mean nothing to her, now. She doesn't even know who _she_ is."

While that brought Paige a certain sense of relief, the broken tones of his voice made her want to cry. **I'm so sorry,** she signed. **If there's anything I can do…**

She trailed off, feeling almost embarrassed. If Mr. Gold didn't know any way to bring back Belle's memory, what could Paige possibly do? But Gold leaned toward her and cupped her face with one hand. They stared into each other's eyes as his face approached hers. Paige finally couldn't take the pain in his eyes and closed her own, just before he kissed her.

His kiss was deep, and in any other situation, Paige would have called it eager. But now, with what had happened, she knew it was desperation. He wanted to try to forget his pain for a few minutes, and although she knew she shouldn't let him do it, she also knew that she couldn't tell him no. That would only make his pain worse. She just hoped that this didn't come back to haunt her.

Breaking the kiss, she took his hand and led him up to her bedroom. She was kind of glad now that Mike had gone off to think. There would be no way that he could have seen Gold come in at this hour.

In the bedroom, he said, "I want to tie you down tonight, dove. Is that… is that alright?" Paige licked her lips and thought about it, but only for a moment. She kind of liked it when he had her at his mercy, even though he hadn't trapped her arms as often as she suspected he would have wanted to. She nodded, almost shyly.

He turned abruptly to her dresser and started rummaging through a drawer. "Take off your clothes," he said, in tones that made it clear that he expected to be obeyed. She did, hesitating over her panties. Without turning back toward her, he added, "All of them." Paige wondered if he had actually sensed her hesitation or if he simply realized that she knew how much he sometimes liked to touch her through her panties. For a moment she stood there, naked. Just as she made up her mind to walk over and find out what he was doing, he barked another command. "Lie down on the bed, Paige. On your back."

She swallowed. She had never seen him quite like this before – so commanding, so… intractable. Even their last time together, just before he had started dating Belle, he had been more playful than actually dominant. She did as she was told, wondering why she didn't feel the need to assert her independence to him. If anyone else had given her orders like this, she would have fought them. Was it the look she had seen on his face? Did he _need_ to be in control of something right now, and her empathy had picked up on that? Or maybe, said the tiny voice in the back of her head, the one that often whispered things she didn't want to think about, maybe there was a part of her that was tired of being so very much in control. Maybe there was a part of her that liked to submit once in a while, and Gold was the only man she could do that with. She could certainly never imagine Mike being this authoritative. She wasn't sure he was capable of dominating someone, but Gold certainly was.

"These'll have to do, I suppose," Gold said, turning, interrupting Paige's thoughts. He held two pairs of thigh-high nylons in his hands.

Paige sat up to sign, **Will this… ruin them?** Paige knew he meant to tie her up with her own thigh-highs, and it turned her on even more.

"If it does, I'll buy you new ones," he said, his voice suddenly gentler it had been since he had started giving orders. He stared at her for a long moment, and there was a hint of hesitation on his face. "Are you sure about this, dove?"

Paige didn't answer. Instead, she lay back down on the bed, stretching her arms up toward the bedposts. She also moved her legs until she was lying spread-eagled, waiting to be bound. She let her lust show in her eyes as she looked up at him.

Gold licked his lips, his gaze lingering between Paige's legs for a long moment. Then he stepped forward and used one pair of thigh-highs to tie her ankles to the posts at the bottom of her bed. He came around one side of her bed and tied her left hand to the post at the head of the bed, and caught Paige's eyes. He walked around the bottom of her bed to the other side, never taking his gaze from Paige's. As she watched, captivated, he seemed to stalk around the bed like a predator. Even his customary limp seemed somehow dangerous. Soon her other hand was bound, and Gold looked down at her, relishing the sight of her helplessness. Paige couldn't help it – she writhed and squirmed, testing her bonds.

Something must have showed in her eyes, because Gold suddenly knelt on the side of the bed and leaned over her, his face close to hers. "If you want me stop, tell me now, dove. Just nod your head and I'll untie you." Paige lay there, very carefully _not_ moving her head. "Alright then, dove," he said, smirking slightly. The hesitation faded from his face.

He began to tease her, brushing his fingers across her body, finding all those sensitive bits of skin that he could touch at the moment. The backs of her thighs were out of reach for now, but the way he had positioned her arms when he tied her hands, he could just manage to hit the tender spots along the back of her arms. And, of course, her inner thighs, and very low on her stomach, almost between her legs. But he had discovered other spots that were also quite sensitive, like the soles of her feet, right along the instep, and he tantalized all of those tender spots until she was consumed by need. Her eyes begged him for release. Smirking, he just went on teasing her for a while.

When he finally slid inside of her, that was all it took for her to orgasm. After her body's spasms had slowed, he began to move, and because she was already so wet, he started with a fast, hard rhythm. At first, he looked down into her eyes, relishing the lust he saw there. She also had just a bit of helplessness in her eyes, but that could have just been his own interpretation, since he knew she was securely tied to the bed, and completely at his mercy.

But even though he was thoroughly enjoying himself, other thoughts kept creeping in. Belle! The fear in her eyes as she looked at him, like he was dangerous and might hurt her! The screams, when she woke to his kiss. Even though he had known it wouldn't work, he had to try. He would do anything to get Belle back.

It was all that damned pirate's fault. It wasn't enough for the man to steal away his wife, the mother of his innocent child, oh no. Then that filthy scoundrel had stolen away his best chance at finding Baelfire. He hadn't meant to kill Milah, but he was just so angry, at Hook, and Milah herself. But now, the pirate had stolen away the light of his life, the best thing that had ever happened to him. Gold never even felt his hand creep up to Paige's throat.

At first, Paige didn't mind. His hand was barely squeezing, mostly just resting on her neck. But he started to squeeze harder, and harder. She couldn't breathe! He wasn't even looking at her anymore, he seemed to be focused inward. Paige tried to struggle, but since she was tied down, she couldn't do much.

Black spots began to appear before her eyes, and she could feel her lungs heaving, struggling to pull in the air that was beyond reach. She felt her limbs go heavy and limp, and then suddenly, she drew in a huge, deep breath as Gold realized what he was doing and let go.

"Oh, no, Paige! I'm so sorry!" Gold cried. As Paige coughed and retched, he tried to untie her, but his shaking hands couldn't unpick the knots. Frustrated, he yanked at them, before remembering that he had magic. In a split second, her hands and legs were free, and she rolled onto her side, still coughing and gasping for air. "Oh, Paige," he whispered, horrified. He wanted to hold her, to try to soothe her, but he didn't want to be pushed away. After what he had already lost, he couldn't bear that. The frightened look in her eyes was enough. It reminded him of what had happened with Belle. He began to gather up his clothes while Paige recovered.

By the time he had all his clothing in a bundle under one arm, Paige was looking around. He grabbed her bathrobe from its hook just inside her bathroom door and handed it to her. Shrugging it on, she looked up at him, but he was so upset that he couldn't read her expression. "I'm so sorry, dove," he said softly, trying not to cry. "I… I should go." Without looking back, he turned. He thought it might be best to dress downstairs, away from poor Paige, and let himself out. But as he reached the bedroom door, he felt her hand on his arm, stopping him. Pulling him back. Confused, he looked around at her.

She still had that startled look, but the fear was gone, replaced by compassion. He cringed, knowing he didn't deserve that. Paige snapped her fingers to get his attention so she could sign, **We're not done yet, are we? I know I need another release, and you haven't had one at all. Just… my turn on top, okay?**

Baffled, Gold let her lead him back to the bed. She pulled him onto it, guiding him until he was sitting at the head of the bed, with his back resting against the headboard. With a somewhat teasing look on her face, Paige asked, **Can I tie **_**you**_** up now?**

"I… I don't know," he said hesitantly.

**Just your hands. And you have magic, so you can get free any time you want. **When he still hesitated, Paige signed, **Please, Mr. Gold, just to try it?**

Although she hadn't mentioned it, Gold knew that, after what he had put her through, she deserved to be allowed to try this. Although he still couldn't imagine why she wasn't kicking him out and telling him she never wanted to see him again.

* * *

><p>Hazel couldn't bring herself to tell Owen who had suggested this, so she made it sound like she had thought of this trip herself. "It is a part of our kingdom, son, and I think you're old enough now to make the journey. Your friend Ryan can go with you; I'll see to it that the knights allow it. And perhaps, out in the country, you'll meet a nice girl."<p>

"I don't know if I want to meet any girl, Mother. Not after _her._" Owen, a young man of 17, sounded a bit sulky.

"I know that you were coming to love her, my son," the queen replied, "but she was not your _true_ love. It is my hope that she will be out there somewhere, the young woman who is meant for you. Oh, she might still be a girl yet; sometimes a person finds himself in love with someone several years younger. Just… keep an open mind, Owen," she said, a hint of pleading in her voice.

"Oh, alright, Mother," the boy said. "I don't imagine some backwoods rube will inspire love, but I'll do my best to keep my mind open." After a moment, the boy added softly, "But if I do meet someone, I won't tell her who I am. Not until I know her better."

Hazel felt a sense of relief. The boy had thought of it on his own! So she hoped it would only seem natural when she added, "Perhaps you should wait until you are sure you wish to marry her, and that she wishes to marry you."

Owen looked at her thoughtfully. "A good idea, Mother. A very good idea."

* * *

><p>Gold tried to get up. "After what I just did, Paige…" He trailed off. Looking at her neck, he saw the bruises starting to form. "Oh, gods, Paige. I'm so sorry. Here, let me heal that!" Frantically, he grabbed her chin and tried to hold her still. But Paige pushed him away.<p>

**No, I don't want your healing**, she signed, and it was true. Not like this, she didn't. **What I do want is to come, and for you to come, too. **

"But how, Paige? How can you ever forgive me for this?"

**There's nothing to forgive,** she signed. **Now, can I tie your arms, or not?**

He wanted to protest. He couldn't understand why Paige didn't want to be healed – that _had_ to be painful! But if she wanted sex… and if she wanted to tie his arms, well, perhaps she deserved it after what he had done to her. He licked his lips and said hoarsely, "Very well, dove. We can… try it."

Paige smiled darkly and seductively. The thigh-highs were still tied to the posts of her bed, so she took the ones at the head of the bed and tied his arms back. He was still sitting against the headboard. When she had both of his hands tied, she looked at him. She could see how nervous this made him, so she drew her hands over her own body, fondling herself for him. He had gone limp when he realized that Paige was choking, but watching her touch herself was getting him hard again. She cupped her breasts and massaged them, pinching her nipples and rolling them, the same way he had done often enough.

She straddled his legs, but over the knees, so he could still see what she was doing. One hand slipped between her legs and she touched the sweet spot for a long moment. Then she lowered her hands onto his thighs, sliding them slowly up toward his groin. She widened the space between her knees so she could push his legs a bit farther apart. Then she fondled him. He was almost ready. Reaching between his legs, she gently massaged his testicles, and he moaned for her.

Moving up closer, she held his erection in place as she slid down onto it. She tried to lean back, knowing he liked to watch her breasts, but it felt uncomfortable, so she pressed up against him, gripping the top of the headboard. His face was nestled against her neck, and she could feel him kissing and nibbling her skin.

He tried to put his arms around her, to press his hands into her back, but they were still bound. He was no longer nervous or uncomfortable about it, but he magicked them free anyway. Even though she might consider it cheating, he wanted to hold her.

Paige smirked when she felt his hands on her back. She knew that it wasn't discomfort at being tied down that made him free his hands, but she liked the feeling of his fingers digging into her back, dragging across her muscles as he shifted his hands. She pressed her cheek against his hair, tilting her head down so her mouth was near his ear. This way, he could hear the soft, breathy sounds of her pleasure.

* * *

><p>Several minutes later, Gold had fallen asleep in Paige's arms, but as tired as she was, she couldn't sleep. It wasn't just the pain in her throat. She was terrified that if she <em>did<em> fall asleep, she would wake up to find him long gone. She couldn't let him leave without making sure he truly understood that she didn't hate him. So after a few minutes, she eased herself out of bed and found some clothes. She was hungry, so she might as well make something for herself. She would make enough to share, in case Mr. Gold was hungry, too.

* * *

><p>"Ryan, you fop," Owen exclaimed. "This is nowhere near the Swamp of No Return!"<p>

"Well, I've never been there, Owen," Ryan protested. He would turn fifteen in a few months, and had never been out on an adventure without an older, experienced knight with him.

"Can you even read a map?" Owen snatched the parchment from Ryan's hands.

Ryan tried to grab at it, but Owen was too quick. "Hey, watch out, you might rip it, and then how will we get home?"

"We'll navigate by the stars," the prince said dismissively. "Surely they've taught you that?"

"Well, sure, but I've never had to do it on my own before!"

Owen sighed. "_I'm_ here, Ryan. And I'm three years older –"

"Two and half!" Ryan insisted.

"Yeah, yeah, two and a half," Owen said, his voice irritated. "But I'm still further along in a squire's training than you."

"But unlike you, _I'll _be a knight someday," Ryan boasted.

Owen was about to retort that he would be a king, when a giggling sound came from a nearby bush!

"Who is there," Owen asked, a ring of command in his voice. "Show yourself!"

A girl of ten edged nervously around the bush. "I'm sorry," she said, cringing a little.

"Oh, it's just a girl," Ryan exclaimed distastefully.

Giving Ryan a withering glare, Owen spoke kindly to the frightened girl. "Do you live around here? We seem to be lost." When the girl just stared nervously, he added, "My name is Owen. How may I address you?"

Shyly, she answered, "I am called Aenor."

* * *

><p>When Gold woke up a little later, the bed was empty. He looked at the clock and saw that he couldn't have slept more than 15 or 20 minutes. Then he realized he could smell pancakes cooking. He smiled, almost ruefully. Paige knew how much he enjoyed her pancakes. After dressing, he headed downstairs.<p>

Paige seemed surprised when he came into the kitchen. He swallowed when he saw that she was wearing a sweater with a neck high enough to hide the bruises. But she just smiled brightly and went back to flipping the pancakes. Once she had a moment, she turned to sign, **Well, I **_**was**_** going to bring these to you upstairs, but since you're here, could you pour us some juice?**

"Of course, dove," he said. "But really, breakfast? At this hour?" It was the middle of the night.

Smiling ruefully, Paige signed, **Midnight snack, then? **She blushed slightly. **After our… exertions, I was hungry, and I thought you might be, too.**

It was only when he opened her cabinet to get out two glasses that he noticed that she had already put plates and forks on the tray she had used before when she'd brought him breakfast in bed. After pouring the juice, he took everything out to her dining area and set the table. He found the syrup and got butter out of the fridge and put those in the dining area as well. "The table is set, and there is juice, butter, and syrup on the table. Is there anything else I can do to help, Paige?"

He had already done pretty much everything, so she smiled. But before she could shake her head no, something else occurred to her. **What do you think about having some bacon? **she signed.

He smiled back, but was a strained smile. Even though she had covered the bruises, he still couldn't stop thinking about them. "That would be nice," he said.

**Can you grab it out of the fridge for me? And another frying pan, too, please. The small one.** Paige turned back to what she was doing. When Gold brought the things she'd asked for, along with a fork for turning the bacon, she smiled and made the sign to thank him, but he didn't give her the bacon.

"Here, let me help, dove." He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she knew he still felt horrible about the bruises she was hiding.

They stood side-by-side at the stove top, cooking together. Gold turned the heat up high under the bacon so that it would finish cooking at about the same time as the pancakes did. Since Paige was taking care of the pancakes, he would be able to keep a very close eye on the bacon, so it wouldn't burn at this heat. He knew Paige liked it a little on the chewy side, while he liked his bacon crispy, so he took three pieces out early and left the other three in the pan for a bit longer.

Paige was putting the pancakes on the table just as those last three pieces of bacon were done. Gold brought the plate of bacon over and showed Paige which pieces were hers. She smiled and signed, **You remembered how I like it!** When she had taken a bite, she added, **This is perfect, thank you!**

But it wasn't until he had nearly finished eating that Mr. Gold realized that something was wrong. Paige had eaten her bacon, but only one pancake. That was unusual, especially since she had claimed that she was hungry. "You should probably eat more then that, dove," Gold remarked. "You're eating for two now, you know." He was probing to find out what was wrong. Was she upset with him for hurting her, despite her protests to the contrary? Or perhaps she was worried that her young man would find out what she had done tonight. Either way, Gold felt a twinge of guilt. He shouldn't have come here.

When Paige smiled, it was a strained smile, and without signing a word, she pulled two more pancakes onto her plate and poured syrup on them. Gold watched closely as she took a bite.

She tried, but she couldn't quite suppress a grimace of pain as she swallowed. So that was it. Gold pushed his chair back and stood, grabbing his cane and walking around the table.

"Paige, please," he said, holding out one hand. A purple swirl of magic formed over his cupped palm. "Let me heal that for you."

She looked up at him. She knew he still felt horrible about having hurt her, but this time he had actually asked and was waiting for her permission, and he was much less frantic about it, too. It would certainly be a problem if she couldn't even swallow without it hurting, and he _was_ right. Even though that saying didn't mean that a pregnant woman should eat double her normal diet like it seemed to imply, she did need to make sure she ate well. If the bruises were going to cause this much pain, eating was going to be decidedly unpleasant for the next few days. Besides, she only owned this one turtleneck sweater, and she was already too hot in it. She couldn't imagine how she would hide the bruises until they were gone. So she nodded. Gold looked relieved.

Holding his hand over the high neck of the sweater, Mr. Gold winced as his magic healed her. He could feel how much it had hurt her. How could she have forgiven him so easily? When he was done, Paige realized that the pain in her shoulders and hips were gone, too – well, mostly. She worked her shoulders and discovered a faint, lingering ache, but they felt much better. She assumed those pains came from struggling against her bonds earlier.

Gold stood by her chair, looking miserable. "I – I'm so sorry, dove. I was just… so angry. But I should have controlled it, I should have –" He cut off, nearly in tears.

Paige had to tap on his arm before he looked at her. Once she had his attention, she signed, **Did you choke me on purpose? Did you mean for me to nearly black out?**

"No, Paige, of course not!" He looked shocked and hurt by what he saw as an accusation. He started to say more, but Paige made a slashing gesture with one hand, interrupting him.

**Did it give you pleasure to see me like that?** Her expression was unreadable, and he was too upset to be able to sense her mood.

"Not in the slightest," he said, protesting the very idea. How could she think that he might have liked that? Did she really think him such a monster?

**Then let it **_**go**_**,** she signed, her face softening into compassion. **You were in a terrible place emotionally and you lashed out in the only way you could. You didn't mean any harm, you just got carried away. It's a very human thing to do. If you had done it because you enjoyed that sort of thing, or simply because you **_**could**_** since I was tied down and at your mercy, that would be a different story. I wouldn't have let you stay if I thought that was the case, and I certainly wouldn't have made you pancakes.**

His face relieved, Gold knelt beside her chair, somewhat awkwardly because of his leg, and asked, "Then you forgive me, Paige?"

She turned in her chair and cupped his face in both hands. She kissed him tenderly on the forehead before running her fingers through his hair, then pulled her hands back to sign, **I already told you, Mr. Gold. There's nothing to forgive.**

"Oh, Paige," he said happily, starting to cry. Paige pulled him in so his face was nestled against her bosom and put her arms around him, stroking his hair and his back soothingly. He wept into that awful sweater, partly in relief that Paige didn't hate him, and partly in grief over Belle. He was terrified that he may have lost Belle forever, and he wasn't sure he could have borne that idea if he had lost Paige as well. He realized that, until now, he hadn't let himself see just how important this young woman had become to him. He wasn't in love with her, not like he was with Belle, but Paige had somehow crept into his heart, becoming a dear and precious friend.

* * *

><p>Owen felt guilty about deceiving Aenor. She had very kindly led them to the nearest town, where they could get their bearings. But they still hadn't gotten to the Swamp. Queen Hazel had given them a set time to complete their journey, and they had still been far enough away from the Swamp that they never would have made it back home by the appointed date, so they had just headed home.<p>

But Aenor had stayed in Owen's thoughts. He told his mother about her, about how something just seemed to draw him to her, even though she was seven years younger. So Hazel had arranged the purchase of a small cottage nearby, where Owen could stay while visiting with the girl. Two servants were chosen to act as his parents, though no one had ever actually called them that around the girl. They had simply let her make that assumption herself.

Several times, Owen almost told her who he really was. But after what happened with _her_, he didn't quite dare.

Six years had passed since they met, and every day, Aenor became more and more beautiful. She was sixteen now, and Owen was twenty-three. He intended to propose to her, but he was trying to decide if he should reveal his true identity before or after she said yes. Of course, that was assuming she actually _did_ say yes!

"Where is your other house," Aenor asked one day as they walked in the garden of the cottage. "Where is it you go when you're not with me?"

Owen paled. The time had come. He would not lie to her. He refused to make something up, so he might as well propose and tell her the truth, all in one go. Maybe it would be easier that way.

Sitting down on the grass, and drawing her down beside him, Owen took a deep breath. "I have a question for you, but don't answer until you've heard everything I have to say." He barely let Aenor nod in agreement before he barreled on. "My question is, will you marry me? But first, you deserve to know… I'm the Crown Prince of the kingdom, and I know it must seem like I lied to you, but I swear to you that I never once lied! That's… that's where I go when I'm not here, near you. Back to my mother's castle. To practice running the kingdom. And I love you, Aenor, but I didn't tell you because – there was another girl, I cared for her, and almost loved her, but we found out – she only cared about becoming queen. She couldn't stand me, and the young man she truly loved, she meant to bring him into our castle as a servant and cuckold me. She had it all planned out! So when I met you, and when we started seeing so much of each other, I wanted to make sure that you truly cared for me." He stopped, finished. But Aenor, her red hair falling over her face, didn't answer. "So I'll ask you again, and this time, please answer – Aenor, will you marry me?"

She looked up, and as her face was revealed, Owen was shocked to see an expression of horror.

* * *

><p>At first, they sat awkwardly in Paige's living room. They both had hot tea, but Paige's was an herbal blend with no caffeine. Not only was she trying to limit her intake, but also, she intended to try to get some sleep in a bit – unless he needed her to stay up and talk with him all night. She would gladly do that if it would help him.<p>

Finally, Gold said, "I'm so sorry, dove." When he saw that stubborn look on her face, he hastened to add, "I mean about young Michael, Paige. I never even asked if he… if you two were together. I should have."

**He's, well, gone off for a while. To try to make his decision without letting his emotions get in the way.**

Gold gave a wry chuckle. What an idiot that young man was! "Foolish," he murmured. Paige looked down with a small, sad smile. Even Mr. Gold knew that this decision shouldn't, or perhaps couldn't, be made from an unemotional standpoint!

Paige felt a sudden kick and paled. She had never even given a thought to the baby during all this! She hadn't thought to ask the doctor about having sex, and he _had_ put her on light duty, as it were.

Noticing Paige's sudden dismay, Gold asked, "What is it, dove? Is something wrong?"

**The baby – the doctor put me on light duty and I never even thought –**

Before she could finish that sentence, Gold had knelt beside her and was using his magic to sense the baby. With a relieved sigh, he said, "She's fine, dove. I think we woke her, though – she seems a bit irritated. But there's no damage to her at all."

Paige sighed in relief. **Thank you**, she signed. She thought of her family, wondering if the baby would grow up with a father in her life. Then Paige thought of her own father. **Mr. Gold? Can I ask you a question?**

"Of course, dove," he replied.

**My father – is he… did **_**you**_** put him in that coma?**

Looking suddenly nervous, he said, "Yes, dove. It was part of my agreement that he would not get word of you until the six years are up, and with the Curse about to be broken, I couldn't take any chances."

Paige nodded. She had been wondering about that. **But how… I mean, a sleeping curse usually needs true love's kiss. How can we wake him?**

"Ah," Gold said, relieved. He had worried that she might not take the news too kindly. "This isn't your ordinary sleeping curse, dove. At the end of the final day of the six years, your father will awaken on his own. It's more of a timed spell than an actual curse."

After another awkward silence, Paige asked, **And Belle… I mean, what happened?**

Gold hesitated, but he knew Paige deserved to know the truth. "I was once married to a woman named Milah," he said, thinking sadly of Belle. He should have told her the whole truth, but he was still such a coward, in so many ways. "We had a son, Baelfire. But when he was young, Milah was taken by pirates. I went to their ship, but… I couldn't win her back. Truth to tell, dove, I was too afraid to even fight for her. So I went home and told my son she was dead." He took a shaky breath. "Some years later, I became the Dark One, but Bae – he didn't like the person I became with those powers. He found a way to a world without magic, where he and I could live peacefully, as we had before. But I was coward yet again, and I couldn't go. I abandoned him. I regretted that the moment it happened, but by then it was too late. I've been trying to find him ever since."

**That's why you made that Curse,** Paige signed, suddenly understanding his motives. **He's in this world somewhere, isn't he?**

"Yes, that's right," he said. "Anyway, I met up with that pirate again, and decided to have my revenge. I was about to kill him, when Milah appeared! She was still alive, and clearly not a prisoner. Turned out she loved that filthy wretch," he said, his voice ugly as he recalled his emotions when he discovered that. "Not once did she ask about our son. Not even when I brought him up, asked how she could leave him like that! She made excuses, and everything she said sounded like the same excuses I had made about not going with Bae. She had the gall to call me a coward when she was every bit as cowardly as I! I was so angry. I kept thinking of all the nights I'd lain awake, wondering what those filthy pirates were doing to her now. What kind of torment and rape they might be inflicting upon her. Wondering if they were bothering to feed her, or let her sleep. Half afraid she was dead, but half hoping so, as well, so they couldn't hurt her anymore. And all the while letting my son believe she had died. I missed her so much! I cared for her, deeply, and I thought – all that time, I thought she was nothing more than a sex slave to them, when all along, she was the captain's lover, and perhaps the first mate, as well!" He paused for a moment and sipped his tea, almost mechanically. "I killed her," he said softly. "A woman I had loved, and I ripped her heart out and crushed it. So that they would know how I felt as I stood there on the deck of that godsforsaken ship, begging for my wife, not man enough to fight for her."

Paige didn't know what to say. Nothing seemed like the right thing for this situation, so she moved to sit next to him and hugged him. She held him for a long moment before he spoke again.

"It was that same pirate who forced Belle over the town line. Getting his… revenge. And now I've lost her, just like I lost Bae, and Milah." His voice was bleak.

Paige pulled back to sign, **Isn't there anything that you two have, some kind of object, a talisman of sorts, that holds fond memories for both of you? Something you could enchant so that it will make her remember?**

"Of course!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up. "The cup!"

**The chipped teacup? That I took home for you after… I mean, while you were in jail?**

"None other, Paige, none other," he said, excited. He grabbed his things and headed for the door. Then he came back and kissed Paige on the lips, but it was a chaste kiss – a grateful action, not a sexual one. "Thank you, dove. Thank you _so_ much!"

He was out the door before Paige could reply.

* * *

><p>As Gold stood in his shop, holding that precious cup, he felt guilty. He shouldn't have gone to Paige tonight, but in spite of what he had nearly done to her, he was still glad he went. If he had thought it out properly beforehand, he would never have gone to Paige, and if not for <em>her<em>, he might not have thought of enchanting Belle's cup. But… if this _did_ work, what would Belle say? Would she forgive him, understanding that her memories had been restored thanks to Paige? Or would she be angry that his first action once she was hurt was to run to Paige's bed? Jealousy could do strange things to a person.

Suddenly, the bell over his door made a soft noise, as if someone had started to open the door, but changed their mind at the last moment. Putting the cup away, he grabbed his cane to investigate.

* * *

><p>"No," Aenor whispered, dismayed. "No, you <em>can't<em> be!" She stumbled in trying to get up, and when Owen, shocked by her reaction, offered her a hand, she let herself fall rather than touch him.

"What?" Owen cried, anguished. "What have I done?"

"You are a king!" Aenor screeched, starting to weep. The two servants who pretended to be his parents came to the door, but he waved them back inside. This was something he needed to deal with on his own.

"Not yet, but I will be," he replied.

"That foul imp – he made me swear! I thought it would never happen, but he made me swear!" Aenor's eyes were wild, darting around, looking at anything but Owen.

"What, Aenor, what did you swear? And to whom?" Owen was desperate to find out why she was so upset.

"Rumpelstiltskin! The Dark One! I made a deal with him, a few months before we met." She wrung her hands. "My price was that I had to agree to marry a king, if the situation arose. And now you come along, and you're just… wonderful… and it's not even love! It's not real! He _made_ all this happen, and you don't really love me, he just made you _think_ you do!"

"But I have never met the Dark One! No foul imp has worked any magic over me, I can promise you that!"

"No, he must have. Maybe you just didn't know, but this isn't real. It's obsession, not love." Aenor's eyes widened, and she looked relieved. "But you said it yourself, you are _not_ yet a king! So I'm _not_ being asked to marry a king! I don't have to marry you!" As she met Owen's grief-stricken eyes, Aenor felt her heart break. Not wanting to hurt him any further, she ran off.

"You needn't sound so pleased about it," Owen muttered after her. He managed to hold his tears until she was out of sight.

* * *

><p>When Paige's alarm went off the next morning, she hit the snooze button and rolled over. She was exhausted after last night, and feeling rather guilty. Even though she and Mike weren't together right now, she had told him that it was over between herself and Gold. But he had needed her so much!<p>

The snooze went off ten minutes later, startling her awake again. Why on earth had she set an alarm for this morning? She turned it off completely and rolled over again. Just as she was settling in comfortably, she remembered – Dr. Horne was taking her out to breakfast to celebrate, since the baby was officially okay! She didn't want to skip out on _that_, so she dragged herself out of bed. But before she got into the shower, she sent a quick text message to Mike.

[Hey, no one's heard from you in a while, and we're all pretty worried. Don't know if you heard – regina killed dr. hopper! Well, please let someone know you're alright…]

She stared at it for a long moment before she hit the send button. She didn't want to be too familiar and personal, just in case that would upset all his efforts to come to a "rational" decision. Then she thought of shy, mousy Lydia. Though she didn't really want to, she supposed she should reach out to Ed, as well. Since her message to Mike had been so bland, she figured it would work just as well for Ed, so she simply forwarded it, deleting the letters FWD at the beginning of the message so he wouldn't know.

Yawning, she headed for her bathroom. A cold shower would wake her up, if she could stand to take one. Lately, she much preferred hot showers. They were very soothing to all the aches and pains of her pregnancy.

* * *

><p>It was dim in the cabin. There was no electricity, and the fire was dying on the hearth. A phone went off, and a young man tossed aside the bedcovers. But it was rather chilly in the large, single room, so he grabbed a blanket to wrap around himself. When he got to the table where the cell phone sat, he looked at the little screen on the front. It was Paige. He really didn't want to hear from <em>her<em> right now, so without opening his phone, without even reading the message, he turned his phone off and walked over to the fireplace. He started poking at the dying embers, grabbing another log so he could build the fire up.

* * *

><p>On the cut-off piling of an old, dismantled dock, just underneath the dock where the invisible Jolly Roger was berthed, a cell phone went off. It had dropped there the night Cora had found a stalking horse so she could frame Regina for killing Dr. Hopper. The tide was high, and the water lapped at the edges of the worn piling. A tiny wave broke against the piling, splashing a few droplets of water on the little screen on the front of the phone. The little battery bar at the top was flashing to show that the battery was nearly dead, and a small message just below the indicator proclaimed that there was a new text from Paige. Then the battery cut out, and the phone went dark.<p>

* * *

><p>Owen had found it easy to confide in Dr. Nerean. The faun's voice always sounded like what Owen imagined a tree would, if trees could talk. Nerean had been with Owen's mother since she was a child, and had, in fact, delivered Owen. But although the faun was many, many years older than Owen, fauns were incredibly long-lived. If one could compare the general development of a faun to that of a human, Nerean would be equivalent to a man in his early thirties. Of course, that dynamic would change drastically throughout Owen's life, but Nerean had been there for Owen as long as the young man could remember.<p>

So it didn't seem strange at all that Nerean was holding Owen as he wept. The prince had deliberately stayed away from his mother, not knowing how to tell her that he had blown his chances. He also didn't want her to know that the woman he loved had made a deal with the Dark One. Rumpelstiltskin was already a name to be leery of, and his mother might think less of Aenor for her deal. Not only that, but Owen couldn't even think of the foul imp without getting extremely angry. If he had his way, he would never have to hear that name again!

Ryan was far from the castle right now, taking part in a test for the squires approaching knighthood. This particular test involved survival in the wilderness, with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The squires would be gone for another two weeks.

Nerean had simply listened closely to Owen's sad tale. He did not wish to offer unwanted advice; humans could sometimes get touchy about that sort of thing. So it wasn't until Owen _asked_ for Nerean's thoughts that the faun shared.

"Well, young prince, it is sounding to me as if this Aenor muchly fears a loveless marriage," he replied. "If you could but find a way to prove to her that you are being very much in love, and being _not_ obsessed, I am thinking this would go a long way toward the softening of her heart."

"If only I knew how to do that," Owen said sadly.

"If you are but giving the matter plenty of thought, perhaps a way will be occurring to you," Nerean said, hoping he was comforting the boy.

Owen wiped his face with a handkerchief. "Please, Nerean, don't tell anyone about this. If I can… if there's some way I can just fix this, no one needs to know. But especially not Mother. She doesn't need to be worrying about me while she's recovering."

Nerean watched sadly as Owen washed his face. The faun very much feared that the queen would not recover from this illness, but to tell the boy would just be another harsh blow. Let Owen have what hope he could.

* * *

><p>As Owen thought and thought, he began to form a plan of what to say that might convince Aenor that his love was true. But before he could go out to visit her again, his mother took a turn for the worse. Finally, just one day before Ryan and the other squires returned to the castle, Queen Hazel died.<p>

* * *

><p>Paige was sipping orange juice while she waited for her bacon and eggs. Having eaten pancakes in the middle of the night, she didn't want them again now, but Dr. Horne had ordered blueberry pancakes. Made with the blueberries Granny had bought from the Farm, of course! But before they got their food, Marco walked in, smiling and laughing. Paige found that odd; she knew he had been very good friends with Dr. Hopper.<p>

Suddenly, she realized who had followed Marco into the diner – it was Archie! She dropped her glass, and orange juice spilled all over the table and into her lap.

Without paying the spilled juice any mind, she got up and went over to Archie. She knew she was gaping stupidly, but she just couldn't help it. **I thought you were – I was going to lay flowers on your grave later today!**

Since she hadn't yet gotten around to asking Horne to give Archie the knowledge of sign language, he had no idea what she was actually saying, but he had gotten this kind of reaction a lot since Belle had set him free, so he could guess.

"Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated," he joked. When Paige pulled him into her arms, he hugged her back. It really was nice to see how many people cared about him. He knew that, like everyone else, Paige would want to know what happened, so he said, "Cora disguised herself as Regina and captured me. I guess she must have enchanted someone else's body to look like me. She took me to Hook's ship, because he wanted to know how to hurt Mr. Gold."

Pulling back, Paige signed, **Wait, Hook? As in, **_**Captain **_**Hook? Like, pirates?**

Horne had followed with napkins, and when he began dabbing at Paige's clothes, she blushed, finally realized she had spilt her juice. While Paige cleaned up as best she could, Horne translated.

"Yes," Archie replied. "Captain Hook, the pirate. Actually has a hook for a hand and everything."

"Perhaps, if the two of you are not minding, you would be so kind as to be joining Paige and myself in our booth?"

Archie and Marco agreed, and while they sat there, Paige asked Horne about giving Archie sign language. They decided to go someplace a little more private after breakfast, with fewer distractions.

"We could go to my shop," Marco said suddenly. "Mr. Gold, he ordered furniture for Paige's nursery – very kind of him, I must say." There was a suspicious tone in his voice, and since everyone else at the table knew the truth, she had Dr. Horne ask Archie to tell him. She hoped that if the news came from his friend, Marco might find it a bit easier to bear.

Blowing out a sudden breath, Archie said, "Actually, Marco, it seems as if Paige's child was fathered by Rumpelstiltskin, back in our world. It was part of her price to find out how to save her brothers from a spell." At Paige's meaningful look, he added, "And as she got to know him here in Storybrooke, Paige has seen… a different side of Gold. She has come to respect him, and think of him as a friend."

Paige watched Marco anxiously, wondering how he would take it. So far, the man was staring incredulously at Dr. Hopper. When he finally noticed Paige's face, Marco said, "Bah, if you were _my_ daughter, this would not have happened, but by all means, be friends with him. With a man who has done terrible things, exacted terrible prices from most everyone here." He sounded angry, and Paige flinched.

**Tell him I know all about the Dark One's terrible prices, but still – somewhere under all of that, there's still good in him,** she signed to Horne, who translated for Marco.

"I cannot approve of what you've done, Paige," Marco said harshly. Then in a softer voice, he added, "But there are also things _I_ have done that part of me cannot approve of, for the sake of _my_ family. And I _still_ lost my boy." He looked sad. "I cannot promise to never speak my true thoughts about Gold when you're around, but I will try to respect your feelings, Paige."

**Thank you**, she signed. **That's all I can ask.** Horne translated.

* * *

><p>At Marco's shop, both Archie and Marco were given the faun's gift. Even though Marco admitted that he didn't often have an actual need to speak to Paige, he decided it would be nice to be able to, just in case.<p>

The three men loaded up the furniture onto Marco's truck. It was a beautiful wood, medium brown with a hint of red in it. Dr. Horne, however, said he had a few things to take care of at Greensmountain Heights. "Do not be forgetting, Paige, that you are also having eventual business there."

**What do you mean, good doctor?** she asked.

"We will be needing to deal with Marsha at some point, sweet girl. Here, we have no Swamp to which we can be exiling her."

Paige looked thoughtful. **That's right**. She had forgotten about that little swamp witch. **We'll deal with her soon,** she promised.

Horne left, and Paige offered to call the Blues and see if they could send someone over to help, but Marco and Archie felt they could handle it themselves. On the way home, Paige had them stop by the storage facility to fetch a rocking chair that had been her mother's wedding present from her parents. Paige knew that her mother's family had always been quite poor, but her grandfather, whom she could barely remember, had certainly made a beautiful rocking chair. It was a slightly redder wood than the furniture Marco had made for her, but overall, she thought it looked pretty nice together.

* * *

><p>When everything was in place, Paige stood in the nursery, just smiling. It was really coming together! She still had moments where she was scared to give birth, or sad to know that she wouldn't be able to teach her daughter her first words, but this sight, this beautiful furniture all set up and ready for the baby, made her feel very happy.<p>

It was too early for lunch, so she brought out a cake she had made the day before, and thanked them profusely.

* * *

><p>Caleb Johnson had closed his herb shop for lunch. Sitting at the tiny table in his kitchenette, he could just see that blown-glass vase in the living room. For some reason, he had never been able to get rid of that dried bunch of stargazer lilies, and he wished he knew why. Then he realized that there was someone in town who could tell him.<p>

* * *

><p>Owen cringed at the way Aenor paled when she saw him. She tried to slam the door in his face, but her father stopped her. "I think you should at least listen to what he has to say, young lady," he said sternly. She had never told her parents about her deal, or who had told her the true story of her fairy ancestry, but she knew her mother suspected something.<p>

With a sullen sigh, she said, "Alright." Her father walked under the overhang along the side of rough hut, where he was carving dowels for something, and two long, curved pieces that looked familiar, but Owen couldn't quite figure out what they were for. Licking his lips, he turned back to Aenor.

"Look," Owen said, "I love you, and I would do anything you asked to prove that my love is true."

Aenor interrupted. "That is the very thing you would say if you were merely obsessed with me."

Holding up one hand, Owen said, "Pray, allow me to finish, Aenor. I will do anything you ask, even if… even if what you ask is that I never see you again." He swallowed hard. "If you ask me to walk out of your life forever, I will do so. Because I only wish to see you happy. Whatever _you_ want for yourself, that is what _I_ want for you." He couldn't help it; he started to cry. "As you pointed out, love, I am not a king yet, but… my mother just died, and I will be crowned in a few days' time. So I will ask you this now, and once I become king, I will _never_ ask it again. Because I would never want you to feel forced to do anything. If you say no this time, I will never bother you again."

She felt her heart melt. If Owen were truly obsessed, he would be trying to convince her to stay near him, not offering to spend a lifetime away from her, to keep from causing her pain. And he only wanted her to be happy! She felt the same way about him.

After taking a deep breath, Owen asked, "Aenor, will you marry me?"

This time, she smiled, tears of joy running down her cheeks. "Yes!"

* * *

><p>In one joint ceremony, Owen received both the crown and a wife.<p>

* * *

><p>Gold had asked the nurses to clean up the broken cup and return the pieces to him. He would pick them up as soon as he was done here. He had checked for the flight he would need, and purchased two tickets, and then he had gone and delivered the news to Emma. She knew this world, like no one else in Storybrooke possibly could. He had known all along that this was what he would ask for when he cashed in the favor. Especially since Emma had spent the past several years finding people for a living.<p>

He just had a few things he needed from the shop, so he hadn't bothered to lock the door behind himself. His mouth tightened when the little bell over his door jangled. Turning, he saw Caleb Johnson standing in the doorway. "I'm on a schedule, dearie," he snapped. "I've no time for whatever it is you want."

Noting that Gold seemed to be packing, Johnson said, "But you're leaving, aren't you? I just want to know one thing, before you go." He swallowed before managing to choke out the word, "Please."

Gold smirked to himself. "Not interested, Johnson. Now get out."

But Johnson stood his ground. "Why did you erase my memories? I've thought it over, and all I know are these two facts – I seem somehow beholden to you, and I can't remember anything from before I was seventeen or eighteen. That means I must have made some kind of deal with you to erase my memories, and I want to know the specifics of that deal. Because strangely enough," he added ironically, "I can't seem to remember actually _making_ a deal with you."

Gold spared a quick glare at the young man. "No."

"Please," Johnson said, "I will pay for the information. If there is something you need crafted, or if I can acquire some sort of herbs for you – I just want to know!"

But before Gold could tell him no again, a sudden thought seized him. Something about this trip… he might well need some extra protection when he got back, but it wasn't a sure thing. However, if he did need that protection, there wouldn't be much time. Sometimes this second sight was more a hindrance than a help; what kind of circumstances could possibly bring something like this about? But if Johnson could help, why not let someone else do the work?

"You witnessed something… truly horrific, dearie," Gold said, "and you wished to forget it ever happened. In return, you were to do anything I might find needful for the next seventeen years, at which point your memories would begin to… resurface."

Johnson's eyes, the only part of his face that could really be seen over the snug black mask he wore, looked thoughtful. "I want to remember my past," he said softly. "And besides, we were here for twenty-eight years. My service to you is… over, so why don't I have my memories?" He had almost said "long since over," but he stopped himself just in time. He didn't think Gold would appreciate the implication that he had gone back on his side of the deal.

"Technically speaking, those twenty-eight years never happened for us, dearie," Gold said threateningly. "We were merely… marking time."

"But it _has _been more than long enough. My service to you _should_ be ended!" Johnson knew he was pressing his luck, but he was tired of not knowing who he really was.

For a moment, Gold seriously contemplated killing the impertinent man standing before him. But that could get messy, and as irritating as Johnson was being, Gold would want him to die slowly and painfully. Unfortunately, there just wasn't time for that, and besides, he _did_ want to make sure he had that extra bit of protection, just in case. And he could always kill Johnson later, once he had returned to Storybrooke.

With a sigh, Mr. Gold said, "Very well, wait here."

In the back, he began to mix something up. Two of the ingredients were in the large, flat-sided jars he had acquired from Queen Hazel. One of them was blueberry blossom honey, from that silly little bee-keeper who had wanted to know if the woman he loved felt the same about him, but the other seemed empty. Gold took a small scoop and dipped out some invisibility powder. He had made this from the recipe that Muffet, as Goldilocks, had obtained for him.

He came back out with the small wooden bowl in his hand. The mixture in the bowl was thick and pasty, and off-white in color. "Take this, and make it into a piece of chalk. If you don't have a mold, you'll have to devise one. I'll have someone pick it up while I'm gone, and once the chalk is placed where it belongs by my… delivery person, your service to me will be over. Your memories will begin to filter back in, but I cannae guarantee that they'll come in order."

Taking the bowl, Johnson asked, "What if your delivery person puts it in the wrong place?"

With a grin that looked decidedly unpleasant, Gold answered, "Well, I suppose you'll just have to hope I've chosen the right person for the job!" He handed Johnson a piece of paper. "Text this number when you are finished. _Do not_ call the number; the young woman on the other end of the line is… unable to speak. Texting her is the best way to contact her. Oh, and also, do not remove the finished piece of chalk from its mold. That _must_ be done here in my shop or the job is not complete, and you'll still be… how did you put it? _Beholden_ to me." When Johnson just looked back and forth from the bowl to Gold, he added, "Now run along, dearie, I've wasted enough time on you already!"

After Johnson left, Gold wrote a quick note and folded it up, placing it in an envelope that he addressed to Paige. It contained instructions on how he wanted the chalk handled. Before sealing the envelope, Gold dropped in a key to his shop.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "In the Name of the Brother."

In the episode, someone keeps calling the stranger's phone. The entry is named "Her." While re-watching the episode, I also noticed that when Ruby and Dr. Whale are talking after he tried to jump off a bridge, he very strongly emphasizes the word "her" when referring to his mother. "If I could have brought _her_ back…" This comment may or may not have been what prompted Ruby to tell him that someone has been trying to contact the man in the hospital, but to me, it just seemed like it was significant, and I decided to name this chapter "Her" as a result… Also, I have emphasized (in _italics)_ the word her multiple times – how many did you count? (And the title is not included in the count! I'll post an answer at the beginning of Chapter 13!)

Hope you liked it, and please please PLEASE review!


	34. S2 Ch13 - Letting Go

As always, I do not own any rights to ABCs characters, plotlines, etc.

To answer the question at the end of the previous chapter, the word "her" appeared in italics 7 times. Did you find them all?

And to user Lady Avotil: Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm very glad you enjoy my story so much, and I hope it will continue to meet your high expectations! And until you mentioned it, I had never really thought of how Lacey would react to Paige... so thank you for pointing it out! I'm not yet sure that Paige and Lacey will ever actually meet, but if they do... well, we'll see!

This chapter has been a lot of fun to write, so I hope you will all enjoy it, as well!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Tristan hunts down the Wolf that killed his father. But though he defeats the Wolf, he, too, is left dying – until both are saved by a Golden Hind named Ayala. She nurses the Crown Prince back to health, and teaches him to let go of his hatred. They fall in love, but Ayala's human form has a strange weakness – if her skin is touched by that of a true human, she will revert to her doe form, complete with delicate antlers. In order to remain with her love, she gives Rumpelstiltskin a small piece of her antler for a potion that will allow her to retain her human-like form when touched by human skin.

In a tiny village near the edge of the Wolfswood, Muffet loses everything. Her entire village is destroyed by Wolfs, including her beloved – or so she believes. When she finds no other way to get vengeance she seeks, she turns to Rumpelstiltskin, who trades a large, enchanted battle axe for Muffet's last memento of her beloved. After learning the necessary skills, Muffet sets out to kill Wolfs, and is eventually hired as a mercenary by Prince Andrew, to aid in the fight against Wolfs.

However, her beloved, Locke, also survived, but believes himself the only survivor. He was forced to the Wolfs' den, where everyone who was brought there with him was eaten. Only he was spared, because the Wolfs sated themselves. His nightmares threaten to drive him insane, and to get rid of those horrible memories, he makes a deal with Rumpelstiltskin. For 17 years, he must keep his face covered and do whatever Rumple requires. Once that time is up, his memories will resurface, and he can decide then whether he wants his arrangement with Rumpelstiltskin to become permanent.

Prince Andrew, at the request of King Owen of the Blueberry kingdom, attends the masquerade ball held in honor of the Crown Princess' birthday. When he meets Eliza, they begin to fall in love. He visits her at the secluded manor where she and her brothers are hiding from the danger spoken of in a prophecy, and later she goes to his brother's kingdom for his birthday celebrations. There, Andrew proposes, and Eliza happily accepts.

Not long after they are engaged, Rumpelstiltskin meets the Huntsman in the woods. Rumple reveals that someone is in danger – the betrothed of Prince Andrew, whom the Huntsman considers a friend. The Huntsman agrees to help, and keeps Eliza from being put under the swan spell with her brothers.

~In Storybrooke, Matilda Bilger, who was known as Muffet in the Enchanted Forest, is searching for her axe. All she has found so far, however, is the man she knew only as Teacher. He is Caleb Johnson in this world, the proprietor of an herbal remedy shop, and while under the Dark Curse, he wore a large, unkempt beard, but now that the Curse is broken, he has shaved and begun wearing the black cowl over his face again.

Even with the Curse broken, Caleb cannot remember his past. The blown-glass vase with a dried bouquet of stargazer lilies is a mystery to him. He knows that he keeps it near him at all times, but he doesn't know why. So he goes to Gold, who reveals that their deal was to last 17 years. Caleb claims that the 28 years of the Curse have put him over his quota, while Gold maintains that those 28 years don't count. However, Gold is in a hurry, so he agrees, but charges an extra price – Caleb must make a piece of chalk for him, which will be picked up and taken to the pawn shop. Once the chalk is placed where Gold specified, Caleb's memories will begin to return…

* * *

><p>"No," Muffet said firmly. "I have what I need from that foul imp. Killing Wolfs is all that matters to me."<p>

"But that's what I'm trying to do, too," Andrew said, trying to convince her. "I am to move to the Blueberry kingdom before Eliza's next birthday. I have only six or seven months, and if I can manage it, I would see every single Wolf in the Wolfswood destroyed. But we can't do that without help."

"You do what you please, Andrew. I have Wolfs to kill." Muffet turned to head out of the clearing.

"They're getting smarter," the prince called after her.

She stopped and stood there for a moment. "Damn," she said softly but emphatically. "I had hoped I was imagining it."

Andrew walked over to the slender young woman. "You're not," he said. "They're trying to hide their tracks."

"And it's only a matter of time until they succeed," Muffet replied. "If they haven't already," she added bitterly. They stood in contemplative silence for a moment, and neither of them looked happy about the thoughts they were having. Then Muffet spoke again. "Last week, I saw one set of tracks – Wolfs out seeking new territory."

"There's obviously still at least one large pack out there," Andrew mused.

"That's not what I was getting at," Muffet said gravely. "There was only _one_ set of tracks. Too deep, though." She paused for a moment, and when Andrew looked at her questioningly, she went on. "They must have walked in single file – more than that, in the exact footsteps of the alpha male. They're hiding their numbers, Andrew."

He shook his head, almost angrily. "I know it is nature's way to adapt and survive, but now – I mean, we're doing this to ourselves. By hunting them down like this, we're actually _making_ them smarter! This is our own fault!"

"But they can't be allowed to savage our people," Muffet snapped.

"I agree," Andrew said calmly. "That is why I intend to go to Rumpelstiltskin for a way to find them all. So we can wipe them out, once and for all!"

After a long silence, Muffet said, "Do what you feel you must, Andrew. But I will not go with you. I have made my deal with him, and I have no desire, and certainly no need, to make another. And I never shall, either."

Andrew sighed. "I suppose I'll go it alone, then," he said. Before Muffet could take off, he added, "Stay safe out there, Wolfslayer." She nodded, grinning at the nickname she'd been given, and started to walk away. Without pausing, she turned her head and laughed outright when Andrew added, "And try not to kill _all_ the Wolfs while I'm gone! Leave some for me!"

"I make no promises on that one, Prince!" she retorted. "But you keep yourself safe from the Dark One, and we shall see what I can arrange! Perhaps you could manage a few cubs!"

Andrew chuckled as Muffet disappeared into the woods. But then his thoughts turned sour. He didn't really _want_ to deal with Rumpelstiltskin again, but if it was within his power to remove one threat from this kingdom before he left, he wanted to do so. Besides, once things were settled for the betrothal, plans would be underway for the takeover of the Betrayer's kingdom, and if the Wolfs were gone, Tristan would be able to send more men.

He smiled as he thought of Eliza. Just a short few weeks ago, she had visited his brother's castle, where they had tilted against each other, and where, more importantly, she had agreed to become his wife. Messengers would be exchanged, finalizing the details of the betrothal agreement, but that should be settled and signed by the middle of the summer. One of those new details was King Owen's request that Andrew begin living at the castle before he married Eliza, so that Andrew could get to know the Blueberry kingdom, and they him, before the wedding was celebrated. Tristan had agreed with that, but had sent a reply requesting that Andrew remain in the Wolfsbane kingdom until at least mid-fall, so that he could select and train Tristan's new general.

Andrew was both lighthearted and sorrowful at the thought of leaving his home. He would miss Tristan and his family, but once the kingdom in between was conquered and split up, as per the agreement, travel betwixt the two kingdoms would be much safer. And besides, he would be with Eliza.

But now, after Muffet's refusal to seek out Rumpelstiltskin, Andrew began to question himself. Was this really the right thing to do? Was making a deal with that vile creature worth the safety of his kingdom?

He couldn't decide, so he climbed up on his horse. He was quite glad they had met here, for it was only a half-day's ride to the clearing where his father had been killed. Andrew and Tristan had erected a shrine there, among the roots of that tree where their father had fallen to a Wolf in order to save the young daughter of a traveling merchant. It was a constant reminder to Andrew that no person was too small, or too unimportant, to be worth defending. His father had always emphasized that no one should ever be taken for granted, no matter their station in life.

Andrew hoped that visiting the shrine would clear his head.

* * *

><p>Caleb rushed the small bowl back to his herb shop. The sooner he could get this done, the better. He knew that he had some kind of small, cylindrical molds, but he couldn't remember just how small they were.<p>

It only took a short time to find them, but it seemed longer. They were for making taper candles, but Caleb immediately started cutting one. It wouldn't be difficult to adapt the aluminum mold to his purpose. He wondered, briefly, where he had learned to do this, but now he rather suspected that his unexplained skills came from his deal with the Dark One.

He didn't bother welding the mold, he simply duct-taped it together. From the consistency of the mixture, he could tell that this type of chalk wouldn't need to be baked, but he had to get it into the mold soon. He stirred up the mix, wondering why Gold hadn't left out the water. Either he wanted Caleb to fail, or he knew somehow that Caleb would get it molded in time. As he stirred, Caleb hoped Gold had put in limestone, or some other kind of plaster-like substance. Otherwise, this thing wouldn't set properly. Suddenly, he blinked. What was that hint of reddish powder in there? It almost looked like finely-crumbled red brick, but why would that be in chalk?

But he shook his head. Whatever Gold had put in there, it wasn't Caleb's business. All he had to do was make the chalk. The top of the mold was a small opening, so Caleb poured the mixture in as carefully as he could, holding his breath all the while. There was only enough for one piece of chalk.

There! After tapping the closed-off bottom of the mold gently to settle the contents, he set it near his radiator so that the warmth would help it dry faster. Since he wasn't sure what all was in the mix, he figured he would go on the safe side and give it four to six hours in the mold. Then it would have to be taken out to finish drying, and he could text that girl Gold had spoken of.

* * *

><p>Gold knew that Paige had gone to breakfast with Dr. Horne, so he let himself into her house and placed the envelope prominently on her dining table. He thought about waiting for her, so he could tell her that he was leaving for a little while, but he still had to stop by the hospital to collect the broken pieces of the cup, not to mention packing a suitcase for the journey.<p>

Well, at least he and Paige had parted on good terms last night. Then Gold chuckled. Actually, it had been the wee hours of this morning. He was glad she had accepted healing after all. He was anxious enough about finding Baelfire; he wouldn't have wanted to be worrying about Paige on top of that.

He made sure to lock the door behind him as he left.

* * *

><p>Andrew was staring morosely at the base of the shrine he and Tristan had built. They had made it with their own hands, to honor their father's memory. But perhaps they shouldn't have used the limestone – a small piece on one corner had cracked so much it looked like it would fall off soon! It was only a simple pedestal of limestone, with a blown-glass gazing ball set on the top, but Andrew worried that the whole thing might come down if that one corner was breaking already. But as he prodded, he found no other cracks. Perhaps the chipped stone had already been cracked when he and his brother built this shrine, and they simply hadn't noticed it.<p>

Fiddling with the cracked piece, Andrew tried to focus on why he had come here. But for some reason, he couldn't meditate on things the way he normally could here. Something seemed… off, somehow, but he couldn't place what it was. Suddenly, the little piece broke off in his hand.

Startled, Andrew looked at where the piece had come from. Aside from not being quite as weathered as the rest of the limestone, that little spot was almost impossible to see. In fact, given just a few months, he probably wouldn't even be able to find where this piece had come off. He stared down at the medium-sized pebble of limestone in his palm.

"Such a pity," lilted a familiar voice.

Andrew was on his feet in a moment. Without realizing it, he clutched that pebble of limestone tightly. "Rumpelstiltskin," he said, his face wary. True, he had been contemplating a deal with the impish man, but he hadn't expected to come face-to-face with him just yet.

"Looks like only that piece was affected, though," Rumpelstiltskin said, smirking. "Got to watch out for those tiny little cracks in the rock, eh? Never know how long it will be before they finally – give way."

"Why are you here?" Andrew asked, swallowing hard. His voice was decidedly unfriendly, but he couldn't help himself. This was, technically, part of his brother's kingdom, and he had meant to do everything in his power to keep the imp out of the kingdom, as his brother would have wished.

Rumpelstiltskin pretended to be surprised by the prince's animosity. "Why, you were wanting something, dearie," he chortled. "Something only I can give! In fact, you were wanting it so loudly, I couldn't help but hear it!"

Andrew licked his lips. Perhaps the foul creature really _was_ drawn to those who were willing to make a deal. "I want a way to track down every Wolf in existence. I want to wipe them from the face of the forest forever!"

"Indeed?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, chuckling. "Well, I have just the thing for tracking them all down, but as for the part where they are all… exterminated, well, that part's up to _you_."

"Oh, I _will_ kill them," Andrew replied. "You can count on that."

"Yes, well," Rumpelstiltskin said, a knowing gleam in his eye, "that is neither here nor there. Right now, all I care to count on… is my price."

Warily, Andrew asked, "And what exactly would that be?"

"Hmm," the impish man mused, as if he had to consider what he wanted. "What would you say to handing over that wee pebble in your hand?"

The prince opened his hand, surprised that the piece of limestone was still there. His fist had been clenched so tight that his palm bore the imprint of the stone. "This?" he asked, aghast. "This is all you want?"

"Why, yes, dearie! Limestone is an excellent base for… chalk," Rumpelstiltskin said, sounding almost cavalier.

Andrew blinked. "Chalk? But this wouldn't make much –"

"It'll make one piece, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin interrupted, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "And one piece is all I shall need. Now… will you pay the price, or won't you?"

Andrew looked down at the limestone in his hand. Just this tiny, insignificant piece of rock would buy him the very thing he sought – but surely that chalk would be used for evil purposes. But then again, limestone was easily come by. If Andrew kept this piece, Rumpelstiltskin could easily get another, and the only thing Andrew would have accomplished would be to make an enemy of the Dark One. "Alright," he said, his voice rough. This would help him give Tristan a lasting peace; surely that was worth a small piece of rock, even if that rock _had_ been part of his father's shrine.

"Excellent," the imp cried delightedly. He pulled a small box out of a hidden pocket. When he opened it, there was a pendant on a long silver chain. The pendant itself was a flat disc, and a strange stone had been set into one side of the disc. "Hold the chain near one end, so the pendant dangles thusly," Rumpelstiltskin said, suiting action to words as he demonstrated. The pendant rotated slowly, then suddenly stopped moving. "Once it goes still like this, you'll have your direction. This little nub right here will point the way." He indicated that strange stone. "The longer it takes to point, the farther away the Wolf will be. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out, eh?"

Without replying, Andrew held out the small chunk of limestone. Rumpelstiltskin lifted the box the pendant had been in, so Andrew dropped his stone in there, and took the pendant from the imp. With a high-pitched giggle, Rumpelstiltskin started backing away. "Have fun on your little… quest," he said, clearly mocking Andrew.

The prince wondered why Rumpelstiltskin would care. He had what he wanted, so why bother making derisive comments? But Andrew put it from his mind quickly. He could finally end the Wolf threat once and for all.

Inspecting that strange stone up close, Andrew was surprised to discover that it wasn't a stone at all! It looked like a piece of an animal's horn, but for some reason, it seemed to have a golden tinge to it. As far as he could tell, the color was part of the horn itself, and not something that had been painted on, but he couldn't think of a single creature with horns that looked like this.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Marco and Archie were leaving that Paige noticed the envelope on her dining table. At a glance, she could tell it was Mr. Gold's handwriting. She was sure it hadn't been there when she left earlier, so he must have come by while she was at breakfast, or at Marco's shop. Most likely, she had simply been too excited about the nursery furniture to notice this note when she got back home. For a moment, she wondered if Gold felt that healing her neck wasn't enough of a "gift" for last night's… activities.<p>

But when she opened it, she discovered that he was asking her a favor. A man named Johnson would be texting her, the note said, and there were instructions on what she was to do with the piece of chalk he was making.

Almost as an afterthought, Gold had added that he would be out of town for a while. Paige blinked. He must have found a way to cross the town line without losing his true self. For a moment, Paige wondered why he was leaving, but then she remembered last night's conversation. Well, technically, she supposed it was this morning's conversation, since it had been after midnight.

She held the note to her chest and focused all her good will. Closing her eyes, she made a fervent, heartfelt wish that he would find his son.

After a long moment, she re-read the note, and decided that she wanted to say goodbye, if she could catch him in time. She didn't know which way he would be leaving Storybrooke, but she had a pretty good idea who he would take with him. After all, he himself had told Paige that finding people was how Emma made her living. But then she realized that she was still wearing the juice-stained clothes from breakfast. She still couldn't believe that she hadn't even noticed when it happened, but then again, she certainly hadn't expected to see Archie walk into the diner.

As she headed upstairs to change, Paige heard her mantle clock chime noon.

* * *

><p>Paige left the apartment building. No one had answered Mary Margaret's door, so she assumed that Emma and Mr. Gold had left already. She wondered where David and Mary Margaret were, and Henry. She suddenly realized that she hadn't eaten lunch, and it was past time, but rather than eat at Granny's, she decided to head home. After all, she had just been at the diner for breakfast this morning.<p>

* * *

><p>Just as Paige was crumbling one more cracker into the last few spoonfuls of her tomato soup, her phone went off. She didn't recognize the number, but it was about the chalk. She was rather surprised that this Caleb Johnson had finished it so quickly. She wondered if he was that intimidated by Gold, or if there was something else at play here. Maybe whatever Johnson was getting in return for this chalk wouldn't be his until after the price was paid. She replied, telling him that she would be there as soon as she could.<p>

* * *

><p>It only took Andrew a day and a half to find Muffet. When he showed her the pendant, she eyed it suspiciously. "Where did you get it?" she asked tightly.<p>

Andrew took a deep breath. "It will help us track down every last Wolf out there, Muffet. Does it really matter where it came from?"

The struggle was plain on her face, but her desire for vengeance won out. "I suppose not," she said, grudgingly. "How does it work?"

The prince demonstrated, and when the pendant stopped almost immediately, he said, "The longer it takes to point, the farther away the Wolf is. Which means –"

Muffet interrupted. "It's close," she said, her eyes lighting up. She gripped her axe tighter and headed in the direction the pendant had pointed. She never noticed Andrew's concerned look. He didn't like her eagerness. He wanted to kill all the Wolfs, too, but he didn't run to that task as if to the arms of a lover. He had thought that the shrine she'd made to commemorate her village was helping, but now it seemed that the hatred was overpowering her once again.

He followed her, hoping that he could find some way to save her from herself.

It only took them a few minutes to hear the Wolf. It was clearly fighting someone, or something, so they didn't worry too much about sneaking up on it. When they finally rounded a tree and saw it, the creature was standing on its hind legs, swiping at a real wolf that was snarling and darting about, trying to find an opening. Andrew held back at first, afraid that the real wolf would turn on him if he tried to fight its prey, but Muffet charged in, axe poised.

At the last second, the Wolf realized that someone was rushing at it from almost behind it, and turned, but the paw it put up to fend off Muffet's first blow was severed by her huge axe. The blade then sliced deeply into the Wolf's muzzle, making it yelp, but it was no longer a killing blow, so she let her momentum carry her into a forward roll. She twisted so she was planted firmly on the ground, crouching like… well, like a Wolf, Andrew thought to himself. She looked just like a Wolf preparing to leap on its enemy.

When the real wolf pounced instead, ripping the Wolf's throat out, Muffet bared her teeth in a snarl. She made a move as if to attack the real wolf, but suddenly an arrow came out of the underbrush, hitting a slender tree next to her. The arrow's shaft, still quivering, was right in front of her eyes.

Andrew looked in the direction the arrow had come from, and saw a man step out of the brush. His bow was drawn again, the arrow pointed right between Muffet's eyes. "Wait!" Andrew shouted, running to get between the stranger and his friend. "We're all just trying to kill Wolfs here, aren't we?"

The man nodded toward Muffet. "She looked like she wanted to kill my friend, here," he said gravely. The real wolf trotted up beside him, blood from the kill still on its muzzle. Andrew did a double take. The wolf's eyes were strange. One was black, the other red.

"Who are you?" Andrew asked.

"I'm no one in particular," the stranger replied. "Just a huntsman."

"And your… friend?" The prince indicated the wolf.

"He's my brother," the Huntsman replied.

After a moment, it was clear the enigmatic stranger felt no need to explain further, so Andrew said, "I see. Well, I am Andrew, a prince of the Wolfsbane kingdom, and this is my friend Muffet."

"Wolfsbane?" There was a threatening edge to the Huntsman's voice.

"Wolfs, creatures like the one your friend just killed. They are abominations, half wolf, half human – simply put, Huntsman, they are monsters. My kingdom exists to keep them from overrunning our lands, and to protect our neighboring kingdoms." Andrew didn't want to go into the full story of how his kingdom had come to be. For one thing, this stranger still had an arrow aimed at Muffet.

The Huntsman nodded. "I've never seen their like before," he said.

"And I pray you never see them anywhere near your lands," Andrew replied. "Unfortunately, their existence makes travel beyond these woods quite dangerous. But it is good to know that they do not plague your people, as well."

Muffet had finally had enough. "Look, I'm not going to kill your… brother, so could you stop pointing that thing at me?"

With a distrustful look, the Huntsman slowly lowered his bow. "What are you two doing out here in the woods, then, if they are so dangerous?"

"We intend to hunt down every Wolf and kill them all," Andrew said. "What about you?"

"We're traveling," the Huntsman replied. "We wanted to see more of the forest."

"How come?" Muffet asked.

The nameless stranger shrugged. "We just wanted to, that's all." He put the arrow back into his quiver and held the bow loosely in one hand, but Andrew and Muffet could both tell that he could fire that arrow faster than most people would expect – and probably accurately, too. He didn't seem the type to call himself a huntsman if he wasn't skilled at the craft.

The wolf whined softly and nuzzled his hand. The Huntsman looked startled, but asked, "Do you mind if we stick around, help you hunt these monsters down?"

Muffet looked uncertain, but Andrew knew that the task would go faster with their help. "Not at all," he said. "True wolves are often the most fierce in fighting Wolfs, and I would welcome one on my side."

* * *

><p>Caleb paced as he waited for Gold's courier. She had texted back that she would be here as soon as she could, so where was she? Looking at his watch, Caleb was surprised to find out that it hadn't been quite twenty minutes yet. It had felt more like an hour! Just as he started pacing again, he heard the little bell over his shop door chime. A red-headed woman came in. She was overweight, but still quite pretty, and unless he was mistaken, she was pregnant.<p>

He grabbed the paper bag on his counter. "I'm Caleb," he said briskly. "It's still in the mold, in this bag. It will need at least twenty-four hours out of the mold before it's completely dry and ready to use, so make sure you leave it where it can air dry."

She eyed the snug black cowl on his face as she pulled out a notebook. But though he knew she was curious, she didn't ask about his mask. _I'm Paige. Mr. Gold wants it placed in a jar, but according to his description, there's no lid on the jar. Will that be okay?_

Caleb felt relieved. It wasn't until he was reading her note that he had thought of this potential problem. If Gold had instructed her to place it in a closed container, he would have had to wait another day. He couldn't explain why, but he felt a certain sense of urgency, as if he _needed_ to have his memories back as soon as possible.

"Yes, that will work just fine." Before he could say anything else, they heard crashing sounds outside. They both ran to the window, but all they could see was several people running. Then, between two buildings, they saw a car hurtling through the air as if it had been thrown! At first, Caleb was sure he must have imagined it, but a glance at Paige's horrified face made it clear that he hadn't. He noticed that she was cradling her belly protectively, which told him that he had been right about her being pregnant.

Without a word, Caleb ran outside and up the steps along the side of the building. He meant to go into his apartment to watch from a window, but while he was unlocking his apartment door, he heard Paige on the steps. He turned toward her, intending to ask her what she thought she was doing, but he froze, staring. When Paige saw his shocked expression, she turned, too. She was almost at the top of the steps, so she was able to see what had caught his attention.

A giant was running amok, throwing cars and smashing things! Paige crept up the last few steps, backwards, and stood beside Caleb. She was scared, and right now all she wanted was to know that someone else was there with her. For a long moment, they both just watched, unable to look away, but then Caleb noticed her. "What are you _doing_? This is my home; you have no right to be up here."

Paige just blinked at him, shocked at his tone. Then the giant started running, making them both turn and stare again. After a few minutes, Caleb said, "Oh, look, he's chasing someone toward the town line. Away from Gold's shop." At Paige's perplexed look, he explained. "You can get to the pawnshop in perfect safety!" He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Paige gaped incredulously. "You'll be fine," Johnson insisted.

Paige put her pen to the notebook again, writing a longer note this time. _You are a piece of work. No gentleman would send a pregnant woman out into the path of an angry giant. Whatever you're getting from Gold for this piece of chalk, I hope it makes you happy. Although selfish, rude people like you are seldom __**truly**__ happy._

When he looked up after reading it, Paige snatched her notebook back from him and, cheeks flushed with anger, made her way back down the stairs. She didn't want to stay here with this man, no matter the danger. Besides, given his attitude, she felt certain that she'd be safer in Gold's shop, all alone.

Johnson just watched her go. Since he didn't know how to respond to her note, he didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if he was amused or irritated by her little tantrum, but it really didn't matter what she thought of him. Without going inside, he re-locked his door and headed down the steps to lock up his shop. He wanted to walk around town, to find out if anyone he saw sparked any of the memories that should begin to return to him.

* * *

><p>"Please, have you seen my axe?" Matilda was desperate. Everyone here was so frightened of the giant that they weren't really listening to her. But if she could just find her axe, she could defeat him! She didn't even pay attention to where she was. She kept trying to stop panicked people and show them the copy of her flyer that she always carried on her person. "Please, I can save the town if I find it! No, please, just take a look at it! Have you seen it?" But even the people who looked at the picture didn't seem to really take it in.<p>

A voice startled her. "Well, aren't we in a panic." She whirled to find Teacher behind her. Johnson, in this world.

"Teacher, please, if you can help me find my axe, I can save us all!" Part of her knew it was useless to appeal to his better nature – she was fairly sure he didn't have one – but she had to try.

But as she expected, Johnson just gave an amused snort. "I see no point in worrying myself about that – there's nothing in it for me. Either someone else will take care of it, or it will kill us all. Everyone dies, Muffet, eventually."

Before she could make a scathing reply, she noticed a man walking along the dock. Even though he was limping slightly, he managed to almost saunter. Then she blinked. She was all the way out at the docks?

She started toward him, but stopped suddenly. Her motion caught his attention, though, and he turned in her direction, eyeing her up and down. He spared a glance at Johnson, but seemed to dismiss him almost immediately.

"Well, hello there, luv," he said smoothly, taking her hand and kissing it.

Matilda blinked at him. She wasn't sure how to handle having her hand kissed, and he certainly wasn't dressed in this world's styles. "What are _you_ supposed to be?"

"Pirate," he said, gesturing to his clothes. His tone of voice made it clear he felt it should be obvious.

"Right," she replied slowly. Then she remembered the paper in her hand. "I'm looking for my axe," she said, showing him the drawing. "Can you help me? It's enchanted, I can defeat any opponent I face with it. I'm sure you've noticed the giant wreaking havoc around town?"

Hook smiled lecherously at her as he took the paper in his hand. "I thought that bloke was awfully big," he joked. Then he handed the drawing back, saying, "I can help you get your axe back."

"Really? You know where it's at?" She was a little surprised that he, of all people, would know where to find her axe, and it showed in her voice.

"The name's Hook. Captain Hook," he said, bowing. "And a pirate is willing to take advantage of resources that a more… nobly-intentioned soul would not care to use." He put his hand to his aching ribs and suppressed a grimace. "But, ah, what's in it for me, luv?"

Matilda just stared at him for a moment. "I… I don't have anything to trade," she stammered.

"What's your name?" he asked flirtatiously.

"Mat. Short for Matilda," she replied.

"Is that your real name? From our world?"

"No, I was… Muffet… back there." She blushed a little. She hoped he wouldn't think it a silly name.

"Muffet," he said, seeming surprised. "As in, the Wolfslayer?"

"I – yeah," she answered. "You've… heard of me?"

With a knowing smile, Hook brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Pirates travel to many ports, luv. We hear stories so wild you'd never believe them. But everything I've heard about you made you sound taller."

"Well, I'm tall enough to kill Wolfs," she retorted. But then she realized that her comment had sounded far less friendly than she had meant it, so she joked, "Besides, it would be difficult to make me sound shorter."

He chuckled softly. "Strange, how a lovely young woman not quite halfway through her twenties should be such a proficient killer." There was clear admiration, and flattery, in his voice. But what pleased Matilda the most was that he had gauged her age correctly. So few people managed that.

"What do you want, Captain?" she asked. She knew he was trying to soften her up for something she might not want to hear.

Brushing his fingertips along her cheek, he said softly, "Life at sea can be lonely. Come to my cabin, perhaps we can… come to an arrangement."

Suddenly, Johnson, whom the other two had nearly forgotten, said, "Don't be stupid, girl. Who knows what diseases this filthy pirate might have picked up on his… travels?"

Matilda shot a derisive glare at him. "You have no say in this, Teacher. Why should you care what I do with my body?" She wasn't sure she wanted to pay this pirate's price, but if it would get her axe back…

Suddenly, the ground shook. Matilda swallowed. That giant had just tried to jump on someone, or something. She desperately hoped no one had gotten hurt. But that only made her more determined. She had to have her axe so that giant could be stopped.

"Alright, Hook," she said, her voice shaking just a little. "Let's go to your cabin."

As the pirate led Matilda away, Johnson stared after them. Why had he said anything? She was right, he had no reason to care what she did, or with whom. So why did that pirate's leering upset him so much? He already had his memories of Muffet, so there wasn't anything to learn about her. But he just couldn't shake that anger deep in his gut. What was this feeling? Jealousy wouldn't make any sense. So maybe he knew the pirate before, maybe Hook had done him some harm in the past. If his village had been raided by pirates when he was younger, he would have developed a hatred of them, while they had probably raided so many villages that they wouldn't remember individuals. That must be it, Caleb thought to himself. It was the only thing that made any sense.

* * *

><p>Muffet wiped her chin with the back of her hand, but it only smeared the blood. Her grin was feral. "Where's that pendant?" she called over to Andrew. "I'm ready to kill a few more!"<p>

Andrew and the Huntsman exchanged glances. "Well, I'm afraid I need to eat first, Muffet," the prince said. He kept his voice light, but he was worried. What would happen when all Wolfs were dead? Would her thirst for vengeance be sated, or would she still feel the need to avenge her village? The way things were going, Andrew feared that she might eventually try to destroy the king's army. In her anger, she might well decide that they were to blame for not saving Thornwood. And then she might go after Tristan, as well. Andrew wondered if he had it in him to stop her if it became necessary.

She sighed heavily. "Oh, I guess you're right. I'm getting pretty hungry, too." It almost sounded as if someone had forced that admission out of her, but Andrew simply headed into the forest. He didn't want to eat near this carnage.

* * *

><p>The three humans and one wolf were sprawled somewhat lazily around the fire. It wasn't ready to go out yet, but it could have used some more wood. But since they were finished eating, they hadn't bothered to add any. It was much too early to settle down for the day, so they would be putting it out soon anyway.<p>

Finally, Muffet stood and stretched. She began kicking dirt over the remnants of the fire, saying, "Well, time to hunt, boys!"

But before either of the men could answer her, a woman's voice said, "That would not be wise."

Andrew, the Huntsman, and the wolf sprang to their feet. The humans all grabbed their weapons and turned to face the voice. They all gaped when they saw four beautiful women with shimmering skin and golden hair. The women were wearing much less clothing than any mortal woman would. Muffet and the Huntsman gaped openly, clearly not knowing what to make of these shining beings. But Andrew knew. "You're… the Golden Hinds!" he exclaimed, surprised.

* * *

><p>Now that she was in the captain's cabin, Matilda wasn't so sure she could do this. The bed seemed larger than it really was, as if it were looming over her. She had only ever been with Locke, and only a few times. Could she really go through with this? Would it be disrespectful to Locke's memory?<p>

"Now, then, luv," Hook said suavely, noting her sudden apprehension. "I think, given your status as a warrior maiden, you should be the one to take charge." She licked her lips and looked at him, trying to pretend she knew what he meant. He saw through it, and added, "After all, being on top puts a woman in control of her own pleasure."

Suddenly, Matilda realized something. "You're hurt," she said, thinking of his slight limp, and the way he kept putting his hand to his side as if it pained him.

He frowned. He hadn't intended to bring that up. "A few cracked ribs, some bruises, nothing I can't handle. But I thank you for your concern." He managed to turn it around and sound blasé about his injuries.

"As long as someone else does the work?" Matilda asked wryly.

Hook shrugged. "Well, if you've changed your mind, luv, I suppose we're through here. Good luck defeating that giant." He opened the door to his cabin to usher her out, but the moment he turned away from her, he grinned wickedly. He knew she wanted that axe badly. He didn't know where it was, of course, but Smee could find it for him. Although it occurred to him that he hadn't seen the resourceful man since he had stolen that shawl from the Crocodile.

"Wait," Matilda said, her desperation showing in her voice. "I need my axe. I'm still willing, it's just… I'm not really the booty call type, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow. He had never heard the phrase "booty call" before, but given the situation, he assumed it meant that she had never had sex with someone she wasn't in a relationship with. Given her embarrassment, he gathered she wasn't very experienced in physical pleasure.

"What's your name?" she asked. Before he could respond, she added, "Your real name, I mean. I can't call you Hook, or Captain, while we… do it."

He paused for a moment, but she was serious. She wanted to know his name, and now that they were this close, he didn't want her to change her mind. He finally said, "Killian."

"Killian," she repeated, sounding the name out. "I like it." She bit her lip nervously.

Reaching into a cabinet, Hook pulled out a bottle and poured a generous glass of rum. "Here, luv, this will help," he smirked. She gulped down the entire glass and held it out for him to fill again. With a slight chuckle, he poured again, but only a little bit this time. As slender as she was, she probably couldn't hold her liquor very well, and he didn't want her to pass out before anything fun happened.

* * *

><p>"I still can't believe I'm doing this," Matilda said, her voice breathy. But she wasn't slurring her words, so Hook felt that he had managed her drinking well enough. She'd had the equivalent of four full glasses of rum, so she clearly wasn't quite the lightweight he had expected her to be.<p>

Without replying, Hook swept her shirt over her head. She had some bizarre contraption wrapped around her chest. It seemed designed to mold her breasts into a certain shape, but it was unlike any corset he had ever seen. It didn't reach any lower than just under her breasts, and there weren't even any laces. After only a little awkwardness, Hook managed to unclasp it with his one hand and drop it to the floor. That was much better. He preferred the natural shape of a woman's breasts. That, or the uplifted display of a proper corset, but then again, taking the corset off _was_ among his favorite things to do with a woman.

Her breasts were small, but well formed, and each one fit perfectly into his cupped hand. He massaged them gently, which made Matilda moan softly. He brushed his fingers over her erect nipples, eliciting a small cry of pleasure from her. Only then did he put his mouth on her.

As he sucked gently on one breast, she gripped the shoulders of his coat in her hands, pulling him closer to her. Meanwhile, his hand was sliding along her back. He could feel the muscles under her skin. Her slenderness had made him wonder if she really was a warrior, but those muscles proved it was true.

He pulled his mouth off her breast and kissed her, deeply. She responded in kind, her body flushed with desire. His hand slid down, over her pants, to cup her bottom and pull her hips against his. She moaned into his mouth as she felt his erection pressing against her, and suddenly she was tugging his coat off.

After that, it was a mad scramble, with clothes flying every which way. When they both stood naked, Matilda stopped, staring breathlessly. There was still a part of her that was embarrassed and didn't want to do this, but he was quite a pleasure to look at. This wouldn't be as hard as she had feared it might.

Hook let her have that moment, wanting to see how she would react. She stepped close again and kissed him, her bare body pressed against his. Moaning softly, she writhed against him. When he broke the kiss and stepped back, she gave a shuddering breath. He sat on the bed and stared into her eyes as he lay down. "Come on, then, luv," he said seductively.

Matilda barely hesitated before crawling onto the bed herself. Leaning over him, she kissed him again, but pulled back quickly. She straddled him, but couldn't quite get the right angle.

"Don't be afraid to touch me," he said, smirking. "Just grasp it, gently, and guide it in."

She blushed. "Sorry," she said, with a small, embarrassed chuckle. She reached down and hesitantly put her hand on his erection. She was almost afraid to do so; she had never touched a man there before, not with her hands. From what she understood, that part could be quite sensitive, and she didn't want to hurt him. But he was right; it was much easier when she held him like this.

As her body slid down over his, she gasped. "Oh, god, Killian!" For a moment, she just held herself there, quivering at the sensation of fullness. He stroked his hand up her thigh and across her hip, and she started to move for him. At first, she couldn't find a rhythm because she was trying too hard. Just as Hook was about to tell her to relax and let her body take over, she figured that out for herself.

But since she was so inexperienced, she wasn't even trying to gauge his body's reaction. At this rate, she would finish before him, so Hook gripped her hip with his hand, pressing his opposite arm into the mattress for leverage. He began to thrust into her, matching every move her body was making. She put her hands down on his shoulders, crying out her pleasure. Hook wasn't about to complain; this meant her small breasts were closer to his face. He was enjoying the way they were bouncing.

Suddenly, they were right on the edge of orgasm. "Oh, Killian! Oh, yes!" Matilda cried, at the same time that he grunted, "Muffet!" After that, their cries of pleasure were wordless as they both came at the same moment.

It wasn't until she had collapsed on top of him that Matilda realized that they hadn't used protection. For a moment, she felt panic threatening to overwhelm her, but then she remembered something her cousin Betsy had told her, back in Thornwood Village. Betsy had said that, if a girl decided not to wait for the marriage bed, the best time to sneak off with her young man was within the first week after her womanly cycle had ended, and since it had been seven days exactly, Matilda knew she would be safe. But she really hoped Johnson was wrong about diseases.

* * *

><p>"You know of us, son of man?" The Hind that spoke had shoulder-length hair. "That is well. I am Zibia, the fourth-born. These are my sisters. Isi is the eldest." The sister she indicated wore her hair loose, hanging about halfway down her back. Zibia gestured to another one, whose hair was almost boyishly short. "This is Enéh, the second-born, and over there is Niabi, the youngest." The last Hind certainly looked young, and her hair was so long that it nearly touched the forest floor. "Our third sister… has abandoned her sisters."<p>

The youngest, Niabi, spoke up in protest. "Zibia!"

"Well, she has," the bitter, fourth-born sister retorted. "She has chosen the path of selfishness, instead of staying with her family!"

Andrew looked back and forth between the two. "You mean Ayala, right?"

Isi stepped forward. "How do you know that name?" Her voice was tight with emotion, and although her expression didn't change as much as a human's would have, Andrew had spent enough time around Ayala to realize that she was angry.

"She is my brother's wife, and the mother of his son." Andrew kept his voice light and conversational.

"A son!" Enéh, with the shortest hair, seemed pleased, but Isi and Zibia looked like they had tasted something bitter.

Without a word, Zibia stalked away. Isi turned to follow her, saying, "You two can explain it to them. I will not stand so close to a blood relative of the human who has stolen my sister." She started to walk away, fuming, but then turned back to her two sisters. "And if either of you tries to stay with one of these man-creatures, I _will_ drag you back to the forest by your antlers, and keep you in a pen like a goat who cannot be trusted to stay where she should."

The youngest sister clearly didn't like it when her sisters fought. She had hunched in on herself, and as soon as Isi was gone, Enéh took Niabi in her arms. For a moment, they stayed that way, as if the humans and wolf weren't even there. But then they turned as one.

"I'm afraid you must cease your hunt, my brother," Enéh said.

"Brother?" Andrew wasn't quite sure what she meant.

Enéh gave a small laugh. "I forget," she said, "you humans have a different word for it, but you are the brother of my sister's husband. He is as my brother, and so are you."

"Oh, what we would call a brother-in-law!"

"I would not know the human word, myself," Enéh admitted.

But before anyone else could speak, Muffet could stand it no longer. "I _will_ hunt the Wolfs down. They don't deserve to live!"

"And who are you to make that choice? Are you one of the gods, perchance?" Enéh's voice was kind, but firm. "No matter how these creatures came about, they are creatures of the forest, and my sisters and I must and will protect them."

Andrew said, "But I was given to understand that they are unnatural."

"Their beginning was wrought by an intentional twisting of nature, this is true," Niabi put in, speaking softly. "But they were created to perform a single duty and then die. The one who made them never meant for them to propagate and become a viable species. But because they have done so, they have earned the right to our protection."

"Wolfs cannot deserve protection. They are foul abominations that think only of killing!" Muffet gripped her axe tightly. She couldn't believe she was hearing this!

Andrew almost expected Niabi to cringe again, but it seemed that a human's anger didn't phase her. "If that were true, there would be no Wolfs to kill. They must think of procreating at times, or there would be no cubs, no future for the pack."

"So they procreate, what does that prove? Even murderers can have wives and children," Muffet retorted.

"And is that murderer any less human for his deviant behavior?" Enéh asked, her face showing no expression.

Muffet didn't know what to say to that, so Andrew stepped in. "Muffet has lost everything to the Wolfs," he said. "Is it any surprise that she wishes to do the same to them?"

"An eye for an eye?" Enéh raised an eyebrow. "That is no way to live. The whole world would be blind." After a moment, she added, "My sister told me that your brother felt much the same way. But he learned to let his pain flow. The pain must flow freely _through_ you before it can proceed to flow out of you. It does not mean giving up, it means letting go. Like all rivers, the past cannot be changed. The same water will never pass through its banks twice. But if the water is held in one place, trapped so that it cannot flow, it becomes stagnant, and can grow putrid. It is the same with pain."

Andrew looked at Muffet, but she was staring defiantly at the two Hinds. He hoped she wasn't thinking of attacking them. But Niabi spoke up again. "There is another reason not to kill them," she said, looking to her older sister.

But Enéh held up her hands, saying, "You are the storyteller among us, sister mine. You will explain it far better than I can."

"Very well," Niabi replied, looking almost embarrassed. She didn't like to be told she was best at anything. It seemed overly prideful. After a moment to collect her thoughts, she began.

"Very many years ago, before the breaking-apart of the one kingdom that once stood here, there was a terrible war. A war against ogres. This was perhaps a hundred years or so before the life of the king called Rolph." When she saw that Muffet and Andrew knew what she meant, she continued. "The ogres were killing everything in the forest. They even tried to kill some of my sisters. For a Hind _can_ be killed, although it is a difficult thing to do. But the humans sent many knights and warriors into battle against the ogres, and still the ogres pushed ever onwards. This part of the forest we stand in was once open, fertile land, until the ogres came. Not too far from here is a cottage, which was once the cottage of a sorcerer. He was a good man at heart, and had good intentions, but to save his people, he used very dark magic indeed. He saw how wolves despised the ogres. A middle-sized wolf-pack could bring down a single ogre, but very few wolves would survive. Even so, they killed as many as they could. It was not enough."

The three humans and the wolf stared at her, engrossed in the story she was telling.

Niabi continued. "The sorcerer captured an alpha male wolf. He used magic to entwine his own blood with the wolf blood, to make a new creature with it. It was his desire to create a fierce warrior with the cunning of mankind and the steadfastness of wolves. His first attempts yielded but little, and then he tried one last time. This time, he succeeded. This time, a Wolf was born, and when he saw how fierce the creature was in battle, the sorcerer was delighted. He made hundreds more, and put herbs into his spell so that they would all be males. This army was not meant for any purpose but killing off the ogres. The Wolfs did just that, and the ogres stopped coming to the kingdom that was here then. But in the battle, the Wolfs displayed a violence that they could not control. They were unstable, and began to menace the very countryside they were meant to protect. The people despaired, and the sorcerer assured them the Wolfs would die off eventually. But it was not so. Cubs began to be born. Even we do not know if the sorcerer's spell failed him, and he simply did not realize that at least one female had been created, or perhaps some of them changed their gender. There are creatures which can do just that, when there are too many of one gender for propagation. True wolves and humans are not among those species, but who can say what effect the magic had on such an unusual combination?" She paused, then added, "And over the years, it has become evident that these lands still need the protection that Wolfs can provide. We have seen evidence that ogres have tried to come here again, as recently as a few turns of the seasons ago."

Andrew licked his lips. "So what you're saying is, if we kill off all the Wolfs, we will leave ourselves open to the ogres. Is that correct?"

Niabi nodded. "It is. As I told you earlier, this land was once part of the kingdom, but between the ogres and the Wolfs, men decided they could no longer live here. They let the forest reclaim this area. It was a bloody battle, and for many years, the plants that grew here were tinged with red. If you climb the trees, you can still see red bark at the top." Her voice was matter-of-fact, which made it seem that much more chilling to Andrew.

Enéh spoke up. "We need you to promise us that you will not hunt Wolfs any longer, unless they become so numerous again as to pose a true threat to your kingdom."

Muffet made an incoherent noise of disbelief and anger. "But they killed everyone! My entire village, except me! The elderly, the children, everyone!"

"It pains me deeply to hear of your loss," Enéh said, her face showing her compassion. "But you cannot cling to that pain, or it will destroy you."

"But… I don't _know_ anything else!" Muffet sounded lost, broken. Andrew wished he could see her face, but she had stepped toward the Golden Hinds. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know what to say.

* * *

><p>Matilda only lay on the bed for a few moments once it was over. When she got up and started gathering her clothes, Hook said, "Come back to bed, luv." She glanced at him and kept picking up articles of clothing, tossing his clothes toward the bed.<p>

"I know this is all somewhat new to you," Hook said, almost coyly, "but most women like to cuddle after sex." He rolled onto his side, propping his elbow on the pillow and resting his head on his hand, watching her dress. When Matilda looked at him, he gave her a smooth, come-hither smile. "Didn't you cuddle with your other lover? Or were they stolen moments between two teenagers who ought not to have shared a bed? Although perhaps those moments weren't even _in_ a bed?"

"Whatever," she muttered. She refused to tell him that he had guessed right on both counts. According to the morals they were raised with, she and Locke should not have done what married couples did, and because it was taboo, they had certainly never dared to use either of their beds. She had already put her pants and that strange breast-molding contraption back on, and now pulled her shirt on as well.

Hook sat up, moving somewhat gingerly. His ribs were still sore, and although Matilda had done much of the work, their dalliance had made the ache worse. Matilda had already tossed his pants over, so he carefully pulled them on. "Well, then, perhaps a nice supper? I haven't anything special to offer you here on board, but I'm sure you know of a place where we can dine, or perhaps order something and bring it back here so we can eat… in private?" His tone was smooth and seductive, matching the smirk on his face.

Matilda sighed as she pulled her second boot on. "I just want my axe, Hook," she said. "Where is it?"

It was Hook's turn to sigh. "Well, as to that, luv. I don't exactly know, yet."

Before he could say anything more, Matilda's fist smashed into his jaw.

"Ah!" he cried out. "What was that for?" He put his hand to the sore spot and worked his jaw gently.

"You bastard!" she shouted. But Matilda was still angry, so she punched him right where his ribs had been broken. He twisted, so she didn't hit him as hard as she had intended, but it still hurt quite a lot. Matilda stood over the bed, glaring down at him as he fell back and gave a wordless yell of agony. "You lied to me!"

Hook slithered off the side of the bed, in a great deal of pain, but still managing to look rather dashing in spite of it. "Now I think what we have here is a simple misunderstanding," he protested, his voice breathy and pained.

Matilda came around and snaked one foot behind his ankle, pulling it forward to trip him. "Damn right, it was a misunderstanding. _You_ told me you knew where my axe was!"

"Not what I said, actually," he replied, lying on the floor and delicately probing at his ribs. He wasn't sure, but he thought she might have added some new cracks to one or two of them. "But you see, I know a fellow who is quite good at –" Matilda aimed a kick at his torso, and he stopped speaking as he managed to grab her foot in midair and twist it. He caught her as she fell atop him. "Weren't we just doing this, luv?" he asked, flashing her a cheeky smile.

Matilda freed herself from his arms and scrambled up. Her face was red with anger and a touch of embarrassment. "You are a cad!"

Smirking, Hook said, "Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? I _have_ been called worse, you know."

"I don't care what you've been called; what you _are_ is a lying bastard!"

Hook started to say something, but Matilda cut him off with a kick to the back of his thigh, which made him hiss between his teeth. When she turned to stalk away, though, he twisted to grab her by the ankle. "Listen, Mat," he said, his voice serious, "I _can_ find your axe for you, I swear it! Like I was trying to say earlier, I know a fellow –"

He cut off when Matilda bent to grab his hand and pry it off her boot. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" she asked, but it sounded more rhetorical than anything else. She grabbed his belt off the floor and stood over him. He had sat up and was leaning against the end of his bed. "I want you to leave me alone now, and I'm going to make sure you do. If you fight me on this, I will punch you in the ribs again, harder than I did before, so unless you _like_ that kind of pain, you'd better behave yourself."

Hook smirked and put his wrists together, holding them out toward her without saying a word. So Matilda knelt astride his lap and set about tying the leather belt around one of his wrists, passing it around the rail that went from one bedpost to the other before knotting the belt around his other wrist. She made sure that the belt was tight on the wrist with the cap over it, so that the loop wouldn't slip over that cap too easily. Her face was stern, but she blushed when Hook wriggled his hips, rubbing himself against her. His voice was soft and intimate as he said, "You're quite the sultry minx when you go all dangerous like this, luv."

"Shut up," she hissed, tightening the last knot with an almost vicious tug before scrambling to her feet, her face red. She frowned at his wrists. She was certain he would work his way free eventually. For all she knew, that cap where his hook should have been had some kind of catch he could easily reach, that would remove the cap and leave his stump of a wrist bare. If so, he would have little difficulty getting his left arm free, and that would free his right arm, but the belt wasn't long enough to also tie it to the rail on his bed. She wanted to keep him from following her, but she didn't want to kill him. Well, not by leaving him tied up on his ship, at any rate. If she ever _was_ going to kill him, she would use her axe, or a dagger if she hadn't found the axe yet. Hopefully, this would hold him long enough. But as her father had often said, there was no sense in crying over something that fell in the water and was swept downriver to the sea, never to be seen again. If Hook came after her when he got loose, she would deal with it then.

She thought about warning him to stay away from her, but he just might be the sort of man to take that for some kind of encouragement, or perhaps a dare that he would be unable to resist. So she turned on her heel and left his cabin without a word.

Sitting there alone, tied up yet again, Hook grimaced for a moment as he shifted his weight. His ribs ached. Then he smiled, a slow, lecherous smile that made him look almost evil. "Definitely worth it," he murmured to himself.

* * *

><p>Muffet was sitting nearby, brooding. Andrew decided to talk to her, but before he could, Enéh laid her hand on his arm.<p>

"Please, brother mine," she said, "I would like to know how it is that you have found so many Wolfs so quickly. It does not seem natural."

Andrew ducked his head. "I suppose it's not," he confessed. "I went to… Rumpelstiltskin. He gave me this." He took out the pendant and handed it to her.

Enéh gasped loudly, drawing everyone's attention. Everyone, that is, except Muffet. "This horn! It… it is our sister's!"

"Ayala's?" Niabi sounded incredulous.

But now Enéh understood. "This was it," she said softly. "This is how Ayala found a way to stay with her human love." She looked almost pained. "She made a deal with the Dark One."

"She and my brother are very much in love," Andrew said, hoping that Enéh wouldn't hate her sister for this.

To his surprise, Enéh smiled. There were tears in her eyes as she said, "She did what she had to do, just like I told her. I gave up my human love – I did not even try to keep him. But Ayala found a way."

The silence that followed seemed awkward to Andrew, so he broke it by saying, "I give my word that I will not hunt Wolfs again unless they pose a true threat to my brother's kingdom. And as his general, I speak for the king."

The Huntsman, who had watched and listened in silence, shared a significant glance with his wolf-brother. "We swear it, as well. My brother hates the thought that those creatures must be left with breath in them, but he also hates the thought of leaving this kingdom unprotected." He glanced at Andrew. "There is at least one worthy man in this kingdom, and we do not wish him any harm."

Andrew felt touched; he rather got the impression the Huntsman didn't care for most humans.

Before the prince could decide how to react, Muffet spoke up. Her voice was thick with tears. "I hate this. I hate leaving them alive. But I don't want to see people die because I was selfish." She swallowed, hard. "I swear that I will only hunt Wolfs if they become a threat to the Wolfsbane kingdom." She took a deep, shaky breath, as if trying very hard not to cry.

"Thank you all," Enéh said in formal tones.

Andrew gestured to the Hinds, and they walked aside with him, out of Muffet's hearing range. The Huntsman followed, but Muffet and the wolf seemed lost in bitter thoughts. "What will happen to the pendant?" the prince asked.

"I suppose we shall keep it," Enéh replied.

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Of course, brother." But although she seemed receptive, Enéh's hand tightened around the pendant.

"I think it should be given to Muffet's care." Andrew stopped there, waiting for the inevitable protests. But both Hinds just stared at him curiously.

It was the Huntsman who spoke. "Given her animosity toward Wolfs? My friend, is this wise? You would be giving her the very tool that could aid her in going back on her word."

"That is exactly why I think she should have it," Andrew argued. "The outer villages, like hers, pride themselves on being men and women of their word. Their word is stronger than a signed contract from anyone else, or so they often claim. If she were to go back on her word, she would be turning her back on the memories of everyone she held dear. She would dishonor them, and Muffet would never do that. Give the pendant to her to show that you _trust_ her. That kind faith can change a person. That kind of faith will give her yet another reason to keep her word."

After a brief silence, the Huntsman said, "I don't know her as well as you, but I think you might be right about that."

The two Hinds exchanged a glance. "Isi will not like this," Niabi said.

"I care not what she likes," Enéh frowned. "She left us here to take care of the situation, so we shall do what we think best. She has only herself to blame if she does not approve."

"Alright," Niabi replied.

The two men watched as the Hinds approached Muffet to give her the pendant.

* * *

><p>Matilda wished she had never gone to the docks. She hadn't found her axe, and she let herself be tricked into bed by a pirate. This was definitely not one of her best days. So what if the pirate was suave and attractive, and a really good kisser?<p>

Her hair was still wet from the shower, and she was wearing a thick robe that covered her from her neck to nearly her ankles. With the thick socks she was wearing, she made almost no sound as she paced her living room, a cup of hot tea forgotten in her hands. As she passed by the built-in curio cabinet that held her memorials for the people of her village, the pendant caught her eye. It reminded her that she had had worse days than this.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold had barely even looked at the bland hotel room. Emma and Henry were in the next room over, so he didn't have to put up with her incessant questions. Of course he was okay! Although, he admitted to himself, he <em>was<em> a little nervous about this. What if Bae didn't want to see him? What if Bae hated him? Gold could hardly blame the boy, although he probably wouldn't be a boy any longer. What if Bae wouldn't listen to Gold's explanations? Even though his regret was genuine, it might seem a little too convenient that he only felt that way once it was too late to follow.

His phone startled him out of his depressing thoughts. It was a text from Paige. [I wish i'd been able to say goodbye, but i also want you to know that i'm wishing you the best of luck with your son!]

He smiled, touched. Was it just a coincidence, or had she been able to sense his need for comfort, even from so far away? He keyed in a return text message. [Thank you, dove.] He hesitated, wanting to say more, but not sure how to put his gratitude into words. So finally, still smiling gently, he hit the send button. He hoped that she would understand the depth of meaning behind those simple words, but if anyone could, it was Paige.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Tiny."

I cannot be 100% sure of ABC's timeline, but it seems as though the events of this episode and the latter part of the one before it take place in the space of two days. So for my purposes, the night featured in my last chapter, where Gold goes to Paige for comfort after Belle loses her memories, is only just "last night" for the events of this chapter. This means that my chapters are overlapping slightly. I apologize if this confused anyone, and please feel free to ask me for clarification if you need it!

Here is what Gold put into the chalk mix, and why. The limestone he got from Andrew in this chapter was crushed into powder for just this purpose, and provides the base of the chalk. Rumpelstiltskin chose that specific limestone because the shrine was built with love, to protect Andrew and Tristan's last memories of their father, so the limestone itself soaked up some of that protection. Gold also used invisibility powder, for obvious reasons. The red brick dust Caleb thinks he spies is correct, because according to some folk traditions, red brick dust is said to provide protection from negative forces and/or entities that mean you harm. Some of the blueberry blossom honey went into the mix as well, because honey is often an ingredient in folk-magic spells meant for protection. The water Gold used to make the mixture thick and pasty came from the tap in his shop, to tie the protective qualities to the building. Removing the chalk from the mold while in the pawnshop is another way of tying the protection to the building, but also, Gold didn't want Johnson to see that the piece of chalk was actually invisible once it was made. **I do not know ABC's intentions regarding the invisible chalk, and where Rumple/Gold acquired it. This is for the purposes of my story only!**

Well, there you have it! Please let me know what you thought! As mentioned in my shoutout to Lady Avotil, reviews can give me some interesting ideas! As always, I do accept anonymous reviews!


	35. S2 Ch14 - Disillusion

Sorry this took so long! There were some potentially life-altering medical issues, but thankfully, everything turned out okay, and I'm still a little sore from surgery, but recovering nicely. Also, this chapter was harder than most, simply because I did not see this coming... I'll explain more after you've read the new installment.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Eliza throws an elaborate masquerade party on her 21st birthday. When she gets up the next morning, her father has gone off to hunt, to distract himself from memories of his wife, Aenor. The queen had died on Eliza's birthday some years before, giving birth to her seventh child.

When Aenor died, a paper was discovered among her things, detailing a prophecy that had been made when Aenor was a very young child. This prophecy included Aenor's death, and said that her children would be in danger. So Aenor found a way to hide and protect the children, by using her small amount of magic to hide a lonely manor house so that only one who knew the secret could find it.

Owen sends a letter to his daughter, telling her that he has accidentally gone into the Swamp of No Return. But, he writes, a young woman, not much older than Eliza, offered to show him the way out – as long as he agrees to marry her, making her the new queen. Owen writes that he does not wish to marry this girl, whose name is Lilura, and in fact suspects that she wishes to harm his children, but he made the agreement anyway, hoping to trick her into revealing her true intentions before he actually has to go through with the marriage. But because of the danger he fears, he takes precautions, sending Eliza back to the hidden manor house and instructing the castle staff to never reveal how many children Owen has, or what their genders are.

Many years ago, a hag named Miranda cast a spell that backfired, causing a witch-hunter to become obsessed with her. She eventually gave in to his desire for her, but the hunter, known as Fire Sword, sensed that the child conceived would have the potential to use dark magic. He wanted to destroy the child, so Miranda fled to the Swamp of No Return, created by an ancestor of hers. There, mere hours after her daughter Lilura was born, she made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin to ensure that the witch-hunter could never find her there.

On the same night as Eliza's held masquerade ball, Lilura makes a deal with Rumpelstiltskin, which enables her to meet Owen and try to force him to marry her. But the impish man warns that if she fails to put all of Owen's children under the spell, she will be caught…

~In Storybrooke, Paige is shocked to discover that Archie is actually alive. Regina was framed for his murder, and Archie was even given a funeral before they discovered that he was held captive, not killed.

And as a result of the Curse, Marsha, known as Lilura in the Enchanted Forest, is now freed from her "prison" in the Swamp of No Return. This was discovered the moment the Curse was broken, but so far, Marsha has been held in Dr. Horne's assisted living facility, until Paige and Horne can decide what to do with her.

Dr. Horne was Doctor Nerean, the faun, in the Enchanted Forest. His abilities with the mind are harder to use in this world, but he can still do so, as he proves when he delves Mike's mind to learn sign language so he can better communicate with Paige.

Both Mike and Ed Grove, who was Sir Elrick in the Enchanted Forest, have not been seen since the night Archie was supposedly killed…

* * *

><p>Lilura stretched, reveling in the soft linens on the bed. The life of a royal was certainly full of luxury! Now if only she could secure her place here. Owen kept talking of propriety, but it had been two months already. Surely that was long enough! She hoped he wasn't suspicious about her interest in his children.<p>

No matter what she tried, no one here could be bribed to tell her how old any of his children were – or how many he even had. She had tried asking the king himself, playing sweet and innocent, saying that she knew she could never replace their mother, and claiming that it made her nervous to think about it. She had then put on a sickeningly sweet, innocent face, asking if he thought his children would like her. But he had only smiled, and told her not to worry about his children.

It didn't really matter if he ever loved her or not, so long as he fathered a child on her. Then her child, whether a son or a daughter, would be next in line for the throne, and she would be set for a life of luxury, not to mention being the first user of dark magic whose child would legitimately take the throne of a kingdom. And unlike her own mother, she would give her child the best of everything!

Life in the Swamp had been miserable, and by the time any news made its way to her mother's pitiful shack, it was at least several months old. Sometimes, it took years! It was nearly three years after the fact when Lilura had finally discovered that Owen's queen was dead. Her fanciful daydreams of becoming a queen herself had begun then.

She decided to begin spying on the servants. She could use her powers to cloak herself, to an extent, which might help her overhear something. Even if it were only servant gossip, she might be able to use that against someone to get the information she sought.

And as she continued to observe the king's departures, she would eventually learn a pattern. He claimed they were all visits of state, and some of them might have been, but she knew most of his absences were really just visits to his hidden children. Briefly, she wondered how anyone had known they would need to be hidden, but that was unimportant in the long run. She reached over to her bedside table and picked up the golden bracelet Rumpelstiltskin had given her. The only times she removed it were to sleep and to bathe, and in both circumstances, she kept it close by. It glinted in the first ray of sunlight, making her smile. It was not a very nice smile.

She knew it would be best to begin preparing today. If the king thought she liked early morning rides in the nearby wood, which was actually more of a well-cultivated park, he might let his guard down somewhat. Then, once she knew when he was preparing for a family visit, it would be an easy matter to leave before him for a ride, but circle around and let him unwittingly lead her straight to his hidden children.

* * *

><p>Paige ran her hands over her belly, massaging a spot where the baby had been kicking for what felt like an hour or so. She wondered what this little girl would be like. Would she have her father's eyes? His nose? Or would she look like Paige? What color would her hair be? Paige gave a gentle push on that sore spot, and suddenly, the baby stopped kicking. Paige gave a nearly-silent sigh of relief.<p>

She blinked suddenly, wondering about the baby's magical abilities. Paige knew that she herself had almost no magical talent whatsoever, aside from her empathy, which was much keener than that of most people. But this was the child of the Dark One. Could that affect her abilities? But she didn't know of any way to find that out before her child was born.

Suddenly, her hands, still massaging her belly, froze. She pulled up her shirt, and saw that her belly button had popped. She stared at it, blinking. When had that happened? It looked awful! She pushed her shirt back down, but she was sure she could still see the shape of her protruding belly button pressing against the shirt. She frowned, trying not to think about it. Instead, she tried to think about what she wanted to do today.

Even though she knew she should go to the Blueberry Farm, to see how things were progressing, the thought of going there made her uncomfortable. All she could think about was Ed, who had been Sir Elrick in the world that was. She hadn't heard from his sister, so she assumed he was still missing. Would the Blues blame her for his disappearance? But more than that, she worried that he would suddenly reappear at the Farm to help with the renovations, as if nothing had happened. She didn't know what she could possibly say to make up for being so harsh. Anything she thought of seemed like it would be too easily taken as a retraction, and she didn't want to give him false hope again.

But she felt the need to do _something,_ so she texted Doctor Horne to make sure he was at Greensmountain Heights.

* * *

><p>Hidden by her cloaking spell, Lilura smirked at the servant girl's screams. She was being switched, it sounded like. The wretched thing had dared to mention the Crown Prince where Lilura could hear. Knowing the girl would be punished, Lilura had followed her, risking discovery. The cloaking spell worked best in dim light, gathering shadows around her like a shroud. That much shadow could draw unwanted attention when a space was well-lit, but there was a chance that something more might be revealed while the girl was being punished, and Lilura did not mean to miss that.<p>

The sound of the switch stopped, but the girl was still sniffling and whimpering. She apologized to the stewardess of the household, a woman whose iron-gray hair was always pulled into a neat, severe bun, no matter the hour. The scrawny old battle-axe was in charge of the domestic affairs of the castle, and despite being a guest, and supposedly the future queen, Lilura didn't want to get on this woman's bad side.

But though she listened hard, Lilura didn't learn anything else from their exchange. Disappointed, she made her way back to her own chambers. Perhaps in a day or so, she could offer that servant something nice. A treat, or some kind of trinket. And she could act concerned, and claim that she had noticed the girl seemed upset, and perhaps through feigned kindness, get some of the information she sought.

If she struck up a friendship with the girl, made the girl care about her, she could eventually "confide" in the girl, claiming how nervous she was about getting to know Owen's children, and how it hurt her that no one would speak of his children to her. It wasn't a method she was familiar with, but she had heard somewhere that it was easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar, although she couldn't remember where she had heard that. It certainly wasn't the kind of thing her mother would ever say.

* * *

><p>After nearly three weeks, the servant girl <em>still<em> wasn't taking the bait. She only spoke to Lilura when asked a direct question, and then gave the shortest reply possible. Lilura's attempt at bribing her with a gift had been met with a demure insistence that no gifts were necessary. The foolish girl even claimed that she was not permitted to accept any gifts!

It was a good thing Lilura had other plans in motion. She would also continue to creep through the hallways at night, particularly in the servants' quarters. They would surely speak more freely when they thought she was asleep. She knew she would have to be careful, though. If she consistently slept late, they would wonder why, and someone might realize that she was staying up quite late. But those early-morning rides she had begun would solve that problem. She could easily take a nap in the well-cultivated wood. A simple spell would alert her if anyone came toward her, so she could waken. And surely she could find other times to take little naps. Besides, it wasn't as if this would be a permanent situation. Once she was ready to put her spell on Owen's brats, she could sleep as she chose.

* * *

><p>"But Paige," Horne said, blinking up at her in surprise. "I was not meaning to imply that this must be done so immediately. I only was wishing to remind you that it is a thing needing to be done eventually."<p>

**Well, as they say, there's no time like the present,** Paige signed. **Besides, it would be better to deal with it now. I don't want it hanging over my head, especially not as I move into my third trimester,** she added. **And anyway, this is something I can do without everyone treating me like I'm made of glass.**

"Very well, sweet girl," Horne said. "I will have Marsha brought out of her room."

* * *

><p>They had tied Marsha's arms and legs to the chair, and it made Paige slightly uncomfortable. It felt like a scene out of a movie, where the bad guys have kidnapped someone and are about to torture that person. She didn't like thinking of herself and Dr. Horne as the bad guys, but she knew that Marsha probably saw it that way.<p>

**Ask her why she was so determined to marry my father and remove his children from the picture,** she signed to Horne. He repeated the question to their captive.

Her expression bitter and sullen, Marsha said, "Because I _had_ to get out of that wretched swamp! And… and I wanted to be the first witch whose child would hold a throne."

"Why would you be wanting a thing like that?" Horne inquired.

Marsha glared. "Because then everyone involved with dark magic would _have_ to like me! They would come to me for favors, and say nice things to me, and make me feel – " Clearly feeling she had said too much, she stopped abruptly.

**Feel what?** Paige signed, and Horne translated. Marsha didn't respond.

"Perhaps you were just wanting to feel that someone could be caring about you?" Horne suggested, his voice gentle. After all, he had once probed the witch's mind, and he knew how lonely she had found the swamp.

"That's not it at all," she spat, but Paige could sense that she was lying. Suddenly, inexplicably, Paige wanted to cry for this girl, raised in a swamp with no company other than her mother. According to what Dr. Nerean had told her, back in the world that was, Lilura's mother had been downright cruel. The hag had even stolen her daughter's shadow, in an attempt to control the girl.

**Why my father?**

After Horne translated, Marsha snorted. "I don't know. Because we heard that his wife had died in childbirth. I never knew how Mother got her news, but she told me, and it just… came to me. I could be free of the swamp, meet other people. I could be important." Once again, she stopped suddenly, not wanting to look weak in front of her enemies. Rumpelstiltskin had warned her, but she hadn't realized that his warning was actually a prophecy. She was sure that he had intended her to fail all along, perhaps _needed_ her to fail for some foul purpose of his own. She should have known better than to trust that foul imp!

Horne was watching Marsha sympathetically. When he looked at Paige, he smoothed his features so she would not see. He knew that Eliza hated this woman for what she'd done to the princes. But to his surprise, Paige seemed near tears!

**She just wanted someone to care,** she signed to Horne. **Good Doctor, you were right. She's little more than a child, and she just wants affection. But she doesn't know how to earn it.**

"Indeed," Dr. Horne replied. He wondered if it was Paige's maternal instincts kicking in, or pregnancy hormones, or if she was just growing as a person. He made a decision. "Would you please be stepping out into the hallway for a moment?"

Paige nodded, and followed him out the door. A rather burly male nurse, standing outside the door to take Marsha back to her room when they were finished, went inside to watch her while they talked in private.

"I am thinking, sweet girl, that perhaps we should be giving her a second chance, as it were," Horne said.

**There's still a part of me that wants her to suffer,** Paige replied, **but it seems that she has already suffered enough. **She looked thoughtful for a moment. **Before we decide, we need to know more. I want to know what happened after we sent her back to that Swamp, with no way out.**

"Very well, Paige. We shall be finding this out, and anything else you are needing to hear."

* * *

><p>Lilura had actually ridden into the park-like wood, because she felt sure that Owen must have someone spying on her. Today, more than four months after coming to live at the castle, she would come one step closer to her goal. She had noticed that many of Owen's "visits of state" had begun with secretive activity by Sir Ryan and that faun, Nerean. She felt sure that their furtiveness was meant to cover up the king's visits to his children. The knight and the faun had been at it again for the past few days.<p>

Everyone knew that there were only two ways in and out of this wood. Those paths would undoubtedly be watched. But Lilura had prepared for this. She had secretly cleared a new path, leaving only a few drooping pine boughs to cover it. Behind those living boughs, she had piled up all the branches and brush she had cut from her hidden path. With the green pine branches in the front like that, it was nearly impossible to tell that anything was different.

* * *

><p>By the time the king left the castle, Lilura was watching. She was also using the spell to cloak herself. The spell didn't work as well in the daytime, but she was just inside the edge of the forest, where the light was dim and dappled. It would do for now.<p>

She knew she couldn't expect to keep to the shadows if she was to follow the king, so her horse was disguised with magic. So was she, but the poor farm-wife dress she now wore was real. The way fabric moved made it difficult to mask every inch of the sort of gown she had grown accustomed to wearing. She had also rubbed dirt on her hands, and a little on her face as well, to help complete the disguise. She may cherish the luxury that royalty afforded, but she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She grimaced down at her filthy hands on the reins. _Literally_, she thought wryly to herself. But there was one worthwhile thing her mother had taught her – what must be endured can be.

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure why they had stopped in this rural town. It was so common, so beneath a king's notice! Then again, Lilura had observed that she was not the only one in disguise. Owen was dressed as a traveling merchant – a rather successful one, at that. He had even met up with some supply wagons! Until that had happened, Lilura had wondered if she had been a little over-paranoid in disguising her true identity.<p>

Suddenly, she took notice – the "merchant" had emerged from the inn, and a youth was with him! Though she strained her eyes, all she could see was that the young man was solidly built, actually rather hefty, and clean-shaven. Though the boy wore a floppy, shapeless hat like so many of the common youths around here, he still put up the hood of his cloak, but it was rather breezy. Perhaps he feared to lose that silly hat, although Lilura suspected he could easily afford a dozen more, just like it. This _must_ be Owen's eldest, the boy who would one day take the throne. But this inn, this whole village, just didn't seem like a good hiding place for the five or six children Owen had. If they were all hidden in separate places, it could take her months, maybe even years, to find them all! She swallowed hard, wondering what she could do if that were the case.

Then she steeled herself. If months, or years, were required, she _would_ find them all. Her dreams, and her future comfort, depended on her resolve, and she would not break. When the boy climbed onto the seat of the lead wagon, Lilura smiled wickedly. This might not be as hard as she feared. There was every chance that the boy had been out studying under some tutor, learning whatever sorts of things kings were required to know. The boy could have left his tutor to meet his father here, from whence they would travel together to where the other children were hidden.

The only thing that still worried Lilura was Rumpelstiltskin's instruction about the bracelet, which she had hidden in her belt pouch for now. She was to find the exact place from which the king "started out" before the bracelet could show her the correct path. But what did that mean? Did she have to discover which gate he left the palace by? Or perhaps it meant the door of that inn where Owen met his son? But as she soon discovered, it meant something else entirely.

* * *

><p>"My mother gloated. She told me how to get out of the Swamp, over and over, just to torment me." Marsha's voice was thick with emotion. "Then one day, a boat floated into the Swamp. There was a dead man on it – or that's what we thought. I refused to touch a dead body, so she started picking through the clothes. I don't even know what she hoped to find. Anyway, she jumped like a startled cat when the man moved!" She smirked unkindly, remembering the ridiculous look on her mother's face.<p>

She continued her story. "Then he spoke. At first, I didn't understand what he said, because he was almost dead. But he said… Miranda. Mother's name. She looked shocked, and backed away. She called him… Brock, I think, and Fire Sword. But he didn't answer, so she checked for a pulse. When she decided he was dead, she cackled, and told me she was leaving, and never coming back. She just rowed out of the Swamp and left me there, alone." A slow tear trickled down Marsha's face. "She left my shadow behind. Said she didn't need it anymore." She couldn't bear to tell them what else her mother had said. It was strange to Marsha, how the cruel comment that should hurt the most would be easier to confess.

After taking a deep, shaking breath, Marsha looked up at Paige and Horne. "Please," she begged, "don't make me be alone anymore! I can't stand it! If you have to punish me for what I've done, just kill me. It would be kinder." She stopped, gasping for breath and trying hard not to sob. But she couldn't keep the tears from running down her cheeks.

Stepping close to Paige, Dr. Horne murmured into her ear. "I could be delving her mind again, Princess. Perhaps if I were placing a restriction upon her, that she could only use her magic for the defending of herself or others, we could be trusting her."

**But does she really have powers? Didn't you tell me that she was the kind of witch who had made some kind of unholy deal for her powers?**

"That is being quite true, Paige. Quite true," Horne mused. "Thank you for the pointing out of this fact." He turned back to Marsha and spoke louder, so she could hear him. "What about those from whom you are receiving your powers? What is being the nature of your agreement with them?"

Marsha looked startled for a moment, but then she shook her head ruefully. "I should have known a faun would understand the difference," she said softly. "My… arrangement, was that they would provide me with the magic I sought in exchange for my mortal soul."

"Were there being… specific wordings, perhaps limitations or parameters, for the providing of this magic?" Horne tried very hard not to run his hand through his hair, as he often did when thinking. He hated not having his horns.

"Well, yes," Marsha said, clearly wondering why it mattered. "They would give me the power I needed to use the spells from my mother's spell book."

"And the means of leaving the Swamp," Horne mused. "Was this in your mother's book of spells?"

Marsha blinked, surprised. "Yes. An ancestor of hers – ours, I guess – had created the Swamp of No Return, as a safe place to hide if it was ever needed."

"Then your… benefactors, if you will, have been failing you. They were not granting you magic enough to break the binding I put into your mind," Horne said.

**What are you getting at, good Doctor? **Paige signed.

"What I am trying to say is this – the contract she made is likely now being null and void, and through no fault of Marsha's." He was talking to Paige, but then he addressed Marsha herself. "Would you be willing to try your magic? Something you were doing many times before, something that always was working for you."

After staring at Horne for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not he was trying to trick her, Marsha concentrated. A look of confusion came onto her face, followed by renewed concentration. "I can't!" She looked terrified.

* * *

><p>Lilura followed Owen's party toward the forest, but she took care to turn down a side road that quickly went out of sight around a hill. She didn't want anyone to look back and realize they were being followed. She had altered the spell so that her mare would seem to be a different color than the horse that had followed the "merchants" into town, and had risked disguising the color of her dress, as well. She hoped that if the fabric had moved too much and spoiled the illusion, they had not noticed, although they would have to be quite sharp-eyed to notice it from that distance.<p>

Once out of sight around the hill, Lilura urged her mare into a gallop. The edge of the woods was closer here, but she feared that if she moved too slowly, she might be seen by Owen's party. A woman on horseback, headed into the woods, would raise suspicions if they caught sight of her, especially since she was not on any road.

Just inside the tree-line, she dismounted and tied her horse to a tree. To keep the horse quiet, she buckled a bag of feed onto its head, then used the cloaking spell again. She moved as quickly as she dared, trying to remain silent as she headed for the road.

When she could see it, she froze. Were they still outside the forest? Or had she missed them? She listened carefully, and heard the creak of a wagon wheel further in. She didn't dare walk on the road; not enough shadows. So she kept the road in sight and tried to move quickly, but it wouldn't have mattered. She soon came upon the supposed merchant caravan, stopped in a convenient clearing while two of the horses were unhitched from the wagons and saddled. It seemed that only the king and his heir would continue on from here.

Once the pair had ridden off, Lilura resumed her tedious journey. There were times when she had to go out of sight of the road to get around an impassable tangle of brambles, and twice she thought she had lost the king entirely. The second time, she just happened to catch sight of a buckle flashing in a shaft of sunlight. The king and his son had taken a side road, which looked like it was very seldom used.

Lilura approached the road carefully, listening and watching to be sure that no one was near enough to see her. Then she crossed the road, easing back into the forest alongside the overgrown track. She needed to be even more careful, now. Were there more side roads, more twists and turns?

But no; before long she came to a spot where she could see Owen and his plump son, dismounted beside an old stone footbridge over a creek that seemed not to need a bridge. However, she could tell by the marks on the bank that the creek could rise quite a lot in a rainstorm. The bridge was in poor repair, and Lilura was quite surprised that Owen hadn't mended it. Of course, many would wonder why a bridge on a road that seemed abandoned should be kept up; it would be a dead giveaway that something important lay out here. Surely the king wasn't _that_ intelligent, but then again, his closest advisor was a faun, and they were renowned for their cleverness.

When Owen pulled out a ball of yarn and dropped it on the ground, Lilura leaned forward, holding her breath as she watched intently. The ball, obviously magical, bounced away into the forest, and the king and the well-cloaked youth followed it. This was what Rumpelstiltskin had meant! The king had hidden his children with magical means, and from that stone bridge, the bracelet the imp had given her would lead her to those little brats.

As she carefully, quietly, made her way back to her horse, Lilura couldn't keep the triumphant smile from her face.

* * *

><p>Horne put a hand on Marsha's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "I was very much beginning to suspect such a thing," he said. Both Marsha and Paige looked at him, confused. He cleared his throat in a manner Paige knew well – he had done it often enough before giving explanations that he knew humans would find to be profound. When she asked him about it, many years ago, he admitted that it made him uncomfortable. It was only natural for a faun to understand far more than a human, and he felt somewhat embarrassed by the often-reverential reactions of the humans around him.<p>

"Your agreement, it was being for the use of their power, was it not?" Marsha nodded in response, and Horne continued. "And it was very clearly specified that you should be having the ability for to perform all spells in your mother's book?" She nodded again. "Lastly, is it not being true that the knowledge of leaving the Swamp was being a part of one of those very spells?"

Marsha's eyes were wide. "Yes," she breathed. She knew that Horne was getting at something, something important. But if he meant what she thought, it could be very bad news.

"Then your deal, it is being now broken," Horne said simply.

"But… my soul," Marsha started, but she was too terrified to finish.

However, Horne understood what she meant. "It was being broken by _them_, not by you, young lady. As I was mentioning earlier, they did not exert the power to overcome the barrier I was setting upon your mind – perhaps they _could _not. Either way, they have, by this lack, not upheld their end of this bargain, which is meaning that they have forfeited their rights to your soul."

For a moment, Marsha just stared. Tears started to form in her eyes. "So… does that mean… I'm free? Free of Mother, and now, free of… _them_?"

"Since you are being quite unable to draw upon the magic that was brought into this land, I am very much believing that they no longer are having a hold upon you," Horne replied. "However," he added, "it is being entirely possible that they are of a jealous sort, and could, perhaps, be sending others under their influence after you, with the intention of bringing harm or misfortune upon you."

"I'm free!" Marsha whispered, as if testing out the thought. She smiled then, the first truly happy smile she had ever known.

Suddenly, Paige made a decision. **Doctor Horne, please translate directly for me. **He nodded, and explained the process to Marsha. Then Paige met Marsha's eyes. **This is your sentence. You must work for our kingdom to earn pardon for your crimes. You will be paid a fair wage, the same as any other citizen. You can work at the Blueberry Farm, or here at Greensmountain Heights – or both, if you wish. You must learn to make friends – **_**real**_** friends, not people who are only nice to you because they want something from you. That's not how friendship works.**

A hint of a blush came over Paige's cheeks as she realized that some people could describe her early relationship with Gold that way – she let him have his way with her, so he gave her gifts in return. But she knew, deep down, that the attraction had been mutual from the start, so her situation was very different from what Marsha had been trying to create for herself.

Paige continued. **You've never learned how to interact with other people, and that's going to make this difficult for you. But until you manage to make friends, until you learn how to get along with people, you will be considered a criminal among my people. And that's also going to make your task harder, because you'll have a long way to go to earn their respect. But as long as you work diligently at whatever duties you are given, and as long as you are genuinely trying to develop your social skills, you will be treated well, I give you my word.**

She signed something specifically to Horne, and he untied Marsha's bonds. The former witch immediately knelt at Paige's feet. "Thank you, Princess," she wept. "You will be a wonderful queen. I'm… I'm so sorry for what I did to your brothers. If I knew the counter-spell… but that was written in Mother's book, and I don't know if that was even brought into this world."

Horne could see that Paige had never even thought of asking Marsha for the counter-spell. "Fret not, Marsha," he said. "Eliza and her father were… consulting, you could be saying, with one powerful enough to be revealing the counter-spell. It is being a fact that Paige's muteness is a part of that same counter-spell."

Marsha didn't respond, but she looked relieved. She was fairly sure that Horne meant Rumpelstiltskin, but if the princess had chosen to pay whatever price the imp exacted, Marsha knew it was no one's business but Paige's.

* * *

><p>Lilura had ridden her horse hard to get back to the castle. She was glad she had taken a lunch with her; this was a very long way to ride in one day. The only thing that worried her now was that whoever was sent to watch the paths out of the cultivated wood might have decided to go in looking for her. The sun would be well past its noonday peak by the time she reached that wood. She had never stayed in the wood quite so long before.<p>

But she snuck back in through her makeshift path, putting all the cut boughs back behind the drooping ones. She heard a distant voice calling her name, and went pale. She put a quick spell on the horse so it wouldn't look so exhausted, and rushed a little further down the path to a nice, cleared area, where she hurriedly spread the blanket from her picnic lunch. She lay down and focused on her breathing, slowing it until it could seem that she was asleep. This trick would never have worked on her mother, blind though the woman was, but these palace fools would never know the difference.

As a mounted knight rushed up the path, she jerked, as if waking, and blinked up at him. "Oh, my," she said, pretending to stifle a yawn. "Did I fall asleep out here?"

Looking relieved, the knight replied, "So it would seem. M'lady."

Lilura turned to collect her blanket so he wouldn't see the anger on her face. He had hesitated before showing the respect that was due her. He did not believe that she was a true lady, and probably did not believe his king would marry her, either. Despite their claims of preparations being made at the summer palace, no one here seemed to believe the wedding would really happen. No one had actually _said_ anything, of course, but their attitudes made it clear.

But then she gave a soft sigh of relief. It seemed her absence, much longer than she had thought would be necessary, had gone unnoticed.

* * *

><p>A few weeks later, Lilura watched for the return of the king's party. She knew he had only left just this morning, and usually he chose to spend the night somewhere, either at the hidden manor or at an inn along the way. She didn't know where, and it really didn't matter. But now his precious sons were all missing, since the swans would <em>have<em> to seek open water. She was sure that he would come straight home.

In fact, she expected him to come to her for comfort. She had taken special care in preparing herself for Owen's return. After all, he would be grieving the loss of his children, and she knew he was tempted by the glimpses of flesh she had allowed him to see. They would likely be married by the end of the week. If things went as well as she hoped today, she could be carrying his new heir sooner than that.

When Owen and his escort rode into the courtyard, they seemed agitated. Lilura practiced her concerned, caring expression in the mirror.

It surprised her when the king's entire party entered her room. She had expected Owen to be alone. A female knight with red hair threw back her hood. The young woman was rather hefty for a knight, but this kingdom did not judge by a person's weight. As long as she could carry out her duties, it was her own business.

Lilura gasped when the knight said, "It was her, Father! She turned my brothers to swans!" This was impossible! There was no daughter! Her spying had caught the names of all six of Owen's children, including the one that might have died at birth! But it seemed that there was a seventh child, for the other knights were calling her the Crown Princess.

Disheartened, Lilura didn't even struggle as they arrested her. As Rumpelstiltskin had warned, she had missed one of Owen's children, and now her plot was discovered. But this explained why that maid had been so difficult to bribe. Though she had nearly slipped up, she'd caught herself in time to drop the end of the princess' title. So she had been punished, just in case Lilura had overheard. These people were far craftier than she would ever have given them credit for.

* * *

><p>Paige sat at Fawn and Noah's kitchen table, staring out the window. How had she come to feel sorry for the witch who had destroyed her life? Was it pregnancy hormones? Or was the girl's story really that moving? Also, she felt like there was something important she should have realized, and she was fairly sure it had nothing to do with the former witch.<p>

She tried to focus her thoughts, but the doorbell rang. Fawn was preparing some nettle leaf tea. It didn't come from Paige's nettle plants, but from that Johnson fellow's shop. Fawn had gone out specifically to purchase some when Paige started spending more time with them. When Paige had asked if the Golden Hinds knew of nettle leaf tea's benefits, she admitted she hadn't learned about it in the forest, but in Tristan's castle, once she had finally conceived a child.

"I'll be right back," Fawn said, heading for the door. A few moments later, she returned, followed by Lydia, Ed's sister. She looked happy, but not as joyful as Paige would expect if Ed had come home.

At Paige's questioning glance, Lydia burst out, "Wherever he is, he's safe. He took supplies from our fishing boat – blankets, matches, drinking water, canned food – he's just gone out to live in the woods for awhile, I guess until he figures things out. Or runs out of food." From her tone of voice, Paige didn't think Lydia was intentionally making a joke. "I'm sure no one else would have known where to find our supplies, and besides, why would anyone else take them?" Her relief was clear. "Anyway, Princess, I just wanted to let you know, so you wouldn't worry. There was enough food to last one person at least a month, maybe more, so he could be out there awhile, but he'll be back. I just know it!"

Before Paige could respond, Lydia made her farewells and practically rushed out of the house. Fawn chuckled. "I only met her that once, when she came here to ask if you knew where Ed was, but I wouldn't have thought her quite so excitable."

**Me, neither,** Paige replied. **But then again, she was **_**very**_** worried about her brother.**

Fawn made an inarticulate noise of agreement as she sipped her own tea. She had made mint tea for herself, never having cared for the taste of nettle leaf tea. At the court physician's urgings, she drank it back in the Enchanted Forest, while pregnant with her son, but only because she didn't want to seem rude. As a Golden Hind, she had never drunk anything but water. Her time with the humans had given her an appreciation of certain teas, like the mint she was drinking now.

Will came barreling into the kitchen. "I'm a plane!" he shouted, holding his arms out stiffly and careening around the table. Paige smiled, and so did Fawn.

"Just be careful, now, Will," Fawn admonished him gently. "Even though Paige is no longer on bed rest, you could still hurt her if you ran into her by accident."

Pretending to come in for a landing, Will looked at his mother very seriously. "I know. Paige is gonna have a baby, and babies is… is… del-kit."

"Yes," Fawn agreed, chuckling. "Babies _are_ delicate."

"I won't hurt her, Mama, I promise," Will added, crossing his heart. Then he beckoned his mother closer so he could whisper in her ear, but Paige could still hear him. "Can I take her out to see my new fort?"

Fawn drew back. "Oh, I don't know," she said, eying Paige contemplatively.

**You have a fort?** Paige signed to Will. Even though he was a child, Horne had also given him the knowledge of sign language, and so far, Paige hadn't found any gaps in his knowledge. She wondered if it was because she kept things rather simple when she signed to him, or if it had to do with the fact that a child's mind is more geared toward learning than an adult's mind. It would be an interesting question to ask Horne someday.

"Yup!" he exclaimed, beaming. "And it's gots woods all around it! You can't even see no houses!"

At Paige's questioning glance, Fawn said, "His fort is out in the woods behind the house. It's not quite a quarter of a mile away from here." She turned to her son. "We have to check with your Uncle Braden before Paige can walk that far. I think he'll probably say yes, but until we're sure, why don't you go out there and make sure everything is just perfect, in case you can take Paige out to see it?"

Will, who had looked crestfallen at first, brightened up at this idea. "Mmm-kay!" he said. Then he glanced at Paige before putting his hand beside his mouth to keep her from reading his lips, but when he whispered, it was still loud enough for Paige to hear clearly. "Mama, I need a ace."

"A what?" Fawn asked.

"So I can put flowers in it to make things all nice," he explained impatiently.

"Oh," Fawn replied. "A _vase_, of course. I'll go get one."

"Shhhh!" Will said. "Not so loud!"

Smiling, Fawn said, "Right, of course." Sneaking a furtive glance at Paige, she added, "She'll never know!" Then she walked out of the room, still chuckling softly to herself. When she came back in, she held the vase behind her and passed it over to her son while pretending to shield it from Paige's view. Leaning down, she whispered, "Don't forget to put water in it so the you-know-whats will survive!"

Will gave her an impatient look. "I _know_, Mama," he said, edging toward the door. "Bye, Paige!" he called as he tried to open the door without letting her see the vase.

Paige waved at him, and he was out the door, running across the back yard.

"I hope Braden will let you go. Will would love it," Fawn remarked.

**I can see that,** signed Paige. **But… a quarter of a mile? Isn't he a little young to go so far by himself?**

Fawn smiled. "It's a smooth, easy path there, and even though I wasn't aware of my origins for most of the time we were here, I know those woods pretty well by now. Technically speaking, his fort is still on our property, although it's pretty close to the edge. But as a Golden Hind, I can sense… well, I guess you could call it the mood of the forest. And if there's any danger to him, or even if he just gets scared for some reason, I'll sense it right away, and a quarter of a mile isn't far to run. You see, Hinds are more in tune with other creatures than humans are. My sisters and I could never have played hide-and-go-seek, because we would simply know where each other was."

Paige nodded, but signed, **I just don't know if I'd feel comfortable letting my child go so far by herself, not at Will's age.**

"And I imagine you would be right not to," Fawn agreed. "But Will is only half human. Not only is he also sensitive to the mood of the forest, as I am, but the animals will not harm him. He can sense them, and they, in turn, can sense him, and know him to be a friend. Most animals that attack only do so because they are startled, or to protect their offspring or their territory. But as the son of a Golden Hind, the animals know that he is no enemy to them."

Still not sure she agreed with the situation, Paige shrugged, signing, **Well, he's your child, I'm sure you know what's best for him.**

But Fawn smiled gently at Paige, knowing that the mute girl still questioned the decision. She chose not to pursue that topic, though. "Noah says that Mike should come back soon, if previous experience serves as a guide. The longest he's ever been gone like this was two weeks, and we're coming up on that soon."

**I think this may be a harder decision than he's ever had to make before, **Paige signed, looking sad. Then something finally clicked in her mind, something that had been nagging at her all day. She looked shocked and dismayed. **Oh, no! Mike! What if… I mean, Archie's not really dead, but there was… a body. What if… what if it was…** But she couldn't finish that thought. It hurt too much. Pushing the nearly-empty mug aside, she folded her arms on the table and hid her face. As always, she cried with very little sound.

Fawn rushed around to sit beside her, rubbing gently at Paige's back and stroking her hair. As before, Fawn didn't shush Paige or speak at all. She knew she would have to ask her husband to go out looking for his brother. Paige shouldn't be under this kind of emotional stress, especially not after the accident almost two weeks ago. But what if Paige was right? What if Regina's mother _had_ killed Mike, disguising his body in order to frame Regina for murder?

* * *

><p>"I won't," Lilura said spitefully, turning away.<p>

"Coward," the blind hag cackled. "Afraid to touch a dead body?" The fact that she had once been equally young and innocent only made her more determined to shame her daughter. After all, it was a similar weakness that had landed her in this abysmal Swamp.

Miranda reached out, barely having to grope before she found the edges of the boat. She was blind, but she remembered where it was from having her hands on it a moment ago. She gingerly patted at the interior until she touched the body. A half-smothered sound of revulsion came from her wretched daughter, and Miranda grinned derisively and muttered to herself about the girl's weaknesses. While she did so, she began rifling through the corpse's clothes.

But before she could make a snide comment out loud, the body groaned! She jumped, startled. Whoever this man was, he was very near death, and trying desperately to speak. "Mir… Mir… an," he said, but his voice failed. In the sighing breath that followed, Miranda heard the last syllable of her name. But… it couldn't be. Could it? She scrambled away from the boat, but no further sound came from the man.

"Brock?" Miranda queried, gingerly easing back to the side of the boat. When he didn't respond, she pushed at him. "Fire Sword?" Still no reply, so she felt for his neck. After a long moment, she decided that his heart was no longer beating. She cackled triumphantly. "Now it's my turn to leave _you_ to rot in this terrible Swamp!" she cried to Lilura. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a dark, shapeless thing. She flung it to the ground, where it quivered and seemed to ooze toward her daughter's feet. At first, Lilura scurried backward, trying to get away from it, but her mother gleefully announced, "I won't be needing _that_ any longer!"

Then Lilura realized that this was her shadow, which her mother had taken when she was little more than an infant. It hadn't kept her from leaving the Swamp, but the Dark One himself had influenced that event, and she sincerely doubted her mother's powers could stand against his for even an instant. She stood still, letting the shadow creep forward and reattach itself to her feet. It felt strange, almost slimy somehow.

Meanwhile, Miranda had gone inside to gather her meager belongings, which she had tied up in a blanket. She strode confidently over to the boat and into the water's edge on the far side of it. Then she moved more cautiously, her hands searching for a moment before finding the side of the boat. She heaved, displaying more strength than Lilura would have guessed she had, and dumped the body onto the bank. When the boat was once again settled on the surface of the water, Miranda climbed in.

Before rowing away, Miranda said, "Say hello to your father, you worthless little brat!" Cackling, she rowed away, her course never erring in spite of her blindness.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold was lying awake in his hotel room. When he had so cavalierly announced that he would kill the boy that led him to Bae, he had never dreamed that the boy would turn out to be his own grandson. Had the red-headed seer known, or was that something her power hadn't revealed to her? He had learned long ago just how murky a vision of the future could be.<p>

Henry. Baelfire's son. For years, he had thought of Bae as a boy, even though he knew that all boys grow up. Even… that one so-called boy, who was – but Gold didn't want to dwell on _that_. He had enough to worry about with Bae and Henry.

He picked up his phone and opened a new text message to Paige. But every time he started to key something in, he gave an exasperated sigh and deleted it. He couldn't decide what to say. Some things he didn't want to admit to himself, let alone to Paige. How could he tell her that a part of him was wondering if he _could_ do it? If he could kill his own grandson?

Finally, after several discarded drafts, he gave up. Perhaps in the morning his mind would be clearer. But right now, he wished he could feel Paige's arms around him.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Manhattan."

It is not always easy to be sure of ABC's timelines, but for the purposes of my story, I am assuming that the Storybrooke events take place on the "next day" from the previous episode. Gold seems to have known exactly where to go, so they didn't really have to spend much time searching for Neal/Baelfire. Also, at the end of the episode "Tiny," when we see Mr. Gold, Emma, and Henry on the plane, you can clearly see that it is night-time outside the window. And then the voice over the intercom states that the flight time "tonight" will be 22 minutes. So while it is a short flight, it clearly marks the end of the day on which they left Storybrooke. I see no reason why they would wait beyond the following morning to go out and find Neal's apartment building.

Now, as for the difficulty I mentioned earlier - when I set out to have Paige and Horne give Marsha a hearing, I had never intended for her to become a sympathetic character. So I envisioned this chapter going very differently. In fact, her hearing wasn't supposed to take up quite so much of the chapter. I wasn't sure what her exact sentence would be, but I sometimes write without knowing how something ends and find that, in the process of creating the chapter, things just fall in line naturally. Many times, I have begun a chapter containing a deal with Rumple, and I'm thinking to myself, "Now what on earth could Rumple possibly want from this person?" But by the time I write the scene, or sometimes even _while_ I am writing that scene, I get an inspiration. But in this case, I was thinking along the lines of, "Where will they exile Marsha to, here in Storybrooke? Will they keep her locked in her room at Greensmountain Heights? Is there someplace that exists here that we haven't seen yet, where they could shut her away?" And I just couldn't decide. Then, as I was writing, I suddenly saw more of her character than I ever had before, and so she ended up getting her chance at redemption.

All in all, that made this a rather difficult chapter to write. I ended up having to postpone this chapter's original Fairy Tale plot so we could all gain a better understanding of where she was coming from.

That being said, did you enjoy it? How do you feel about seeing Lilura/Marsha as a sympathetic character? PLEASE review!


	36. S2 Ch15 - Greatness

Well, here it is! As always, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters, plot lines, etc.

These past few episodes (and the next couple, as well) all seem to be taking place very quickly, with most of them happening the day after the previous episode. This has made things very difficult for me, since there are certain things I've been planning to happen in this part of ABC's overall storyline. I've had to readjust some of my story's events to make sure I'm keeping myself paced with ABC's timeline... But I've got all that wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff all worked out for the next few chapters, so that should help. In theory, at least... (And by the way, yay, Dr. Who reference!)

So anyway, hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, a man named Felix discovers that he is a descendant of King Rolph, and therefore the rightful heir to the throne of a kingdom that has been in civil war for over fifty years. With some help from Rumpelstiltskin, the proof comes to light just before his wife gives birth. Wanting to provide the potential for continuity of the line, his wife trades her baby girl for a poor farmer's son. The two children meet 21 years later, never knowing that they were switched at birth. Each envies the other's life, and they make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin to be able to switch lives. But as time passes, Norah begins to miss her humble farm, and Robert misses his easy, comfortable life as a potential prince.

Rumpelstiltskin sought out the royal descendant of a union between a fairy and a human, and the only real prospect he found was Felix. Not wanting to risk his plans on a single possibility, he found a poverty-stricken family that was descended from such a union, and he took steps to ensure that the daughter, Aenor, would marry into royalty, thus ensuring that her children would fit his needs and give him a choice. Aenor's first child was a daughter, Eliza.

When the girls are young, Rumpelstiltskin gathers a hair sample from both of them, but he bides his time, waiting to collect a further sample when they have matured somewhat for comparison. After collecting Norah's second hair sample, he is disgusted. It takes a few years to gather a second sample from Eliza, but mere observation of the Blueberry princess indicates that she will prove more useful to him.

In the Wolfsbane kingdom, the village of Thornwood is slaughtered by Wolfs. Muffet, lost in the Thornwood overnight, believes that she is the only survivor, but her boyfriend Locke, who was taken to the Wolfs' lair, was not harmed before the Wolfs were all sated. He makes his way back to find the village deserted, and therefore he, too, believes that he is the only survivor. After Muffet gives up Locke's handkerchief to Rumpelstiltskin in exchange for an enchanted axe, the imp seeks out Locke, and offers to take away the terrible memories if Locke will do whatever Rumpelstiltskin might require for the next 17 years. Locke must also keep his face obscured. The first task Locke performs for Rumpelstiltskin is to teach Muffet to use the axe. With the snug cowl that exposes only his eyes, Muffet does not recognize Locke, whose personality is also much different now. And Locke has given up all of his memories prior to his deal, so he does not remember the woman he loves.

~In Storybrooke, Caleb Johnson, who was first Locke and then Teacher in the Enchanted Forest, has had enough of not knowing who he is. He goes to Gold just before the pawnbroker leaves town, and makes a deal. With a paste that Gold provides, Johnson makes a piece of chalk, which must not be removed from its mold until it has been returned to Gold's shop. When the chalk is ready, Johnson texts Paige, as per the agreement. When Paige arrives, Johnson is curt, wanting the chalk to be put in its proper place, since he cannot begin regaining his memories until then. As soon as Paige leaves, Johnson locks up his herb and tea shop to wander the town in hopes of recognizing someone. He sees Matilda, who was Muffet in the world that was, and dismisses her as someone he _should_ remember, assuming that he only met her after his deal with Rumpelstiltskin. When Mat agrees to accompany Captain Hook to his ship, Johnson gets a feeling that reminds him of jealousy, but he decides it must be something else. He wonders if the pirate sacked his town when he was a child, and therefore he would feel hatred for the man. Despite Johnson's sarcastic comment about diseases, Mat trades sexual favors for her axe. The only problem is, Hook doesn't know where to find her axe. He is trusting that his crewman, Smee, will be able to find it, since that is the man's forte.

Paige and Mike have another fight, and on the same evening, Ed Grove, who was Sir Elrick in the Enchanted Forest, tries to kiss Paige. He falsely assumes that Paige will marry him, since it seems like Mike may not. Ed doesn't know that Paige has found a loophole in the law that requires her to be married before the birth of her daughter if her daughter is to be considered the heir to the throne. Paige thinks of Ed more as a brother than as a man she could marry. Both Ed and Mike are on the docks that night, when Cora finds a young man whose body she can disguise to frame Regina for Dr. Hopper's murder. Later, Ed's sister comes to Paige with news that emergency survival supplies have been removed from their family's fishing boat, and she joyfully announces that it means her brother is well, just hiding out somewhere until he figures things out. Noah, Mike's brother, has assured Paige that Mike has disappeared before when faced with a difficult decision, but now, Paige realizes that since Archie is actually still alive, that means someone else died in his stead. She immediately fears that the body they found was actually Mike's…

* * *

><p>Robert sighed in relief as the town around the fortress came into view. He had begun to feel nervous, traveling so late, but he had wanted to reach the fortress tonight. Dusk had fallen nearly half an hour ago, and even this close to the fortress, the roads might not be safe. He eyed the edges of the forest, which had been cleared away from the road for the distance of nearly two bow-shots on each side. That certainly helped keep brigands off the road in daylight, but at night, one side or the other would always be in shadow. If bandits were lying in wait it the open space along the side of the road that was in shadow, all they would have to do would be to remain still until a traveler came close. He shivered, really wishing he hadn't thought of that.<p>

But he made it safely into the town, and while there could still be cutpurses here, knowing that there were other people around made him feel much safer.

He didn't even try the guards at the gate. He knew they wouldn't let anyone in at this hour, and besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the fact that they wouldn't recognize his face. He knew other ways to get in, though. He had learned the ins and outs of this fortress quite thoroughly.

Unfortunately, he couldn't sneak in until the guard changed, at a little after midnight. The huge clock in the fortress hadn't even chimed ten yet, so he slipped into the bushes where he could be ready when the time came.

* * *

><p>Fawn and Ruby looked up, surprised, when Vicki brought Sammi into the room.<p>

"Oh," Vicki said, reacting to their faces. "Was she not part of all this?"

"Um, no," Ruby said.

Vicki flushed, saying, "I'm sorry, she said she was here about Paige, and I just assumed – well, you know what they say about assumptions in this world." She looked embarrassed.

"What did you need," Fawn said to Sammi.

She swallowed. "I need… to speak with the Crown Princess of the Blueberry Kingdom," she said, almost formally. "And I should probably include King Tristan of the Wolfsbane, as well."

"And what do you require of my husband and my future sister-in-law?" Fawn asked, speaking more formally herself.

"Your husband?" Sammi asked, but then she shook her head. "Of course, I should have known. I was told this is Mike's brother's house, and I knew he was married, but I didn't realize – I apologize, Your Grace."

Fawn colored slightly. "There is no need, young lady. We are far from our kingdoms, and here I am not a queen." She paused, then asked, "And who, may I ask, are you?"

"I'm Sammi Clemens here," she replied, "but back home I was Norah. The heir to Rolph's throne in the kingdom between the Blueberry and Wolfsbane." Then she made a bitter face. "Well, sort of the heir."

"Yes, I know of you," Fawn said. "The young woman who was switched at birth without her father's knowledge."

Though it wasn't a question, Sammi nodded. "That's me." She sounded rather grim.

"Why do you need to see Noah and Paige?" Fawn asked.

"Back in our lands, I… heard some things, and since we're all stuck here together in Storybrooke, it seems like the perfect time to straighten things out, but please, I'd prefer to ask Paige and your husband. I… I need to see their genuine reactions, and I wouldn't get that if they were pre-warned." Sammi swallowed. From what she knew of Paige here in this land without magic, she didn't think the Blueberry Princess could possibly be planning what Felix's advisors had claimed, but she had to know for sure.

"My husband is at work, and Paige is… running some errands." She didn't want to get into the whole story of Paige's worry; she didn't know if this girl was a friend or not. Noting the look on Sammi's face, Fawn added, "If this is something urgent, perhaps you could come back around lunchtime? Paige should be back by then, and I can ask my husband to come home for lunch. I cannot promise he will make it, but if he cannot, I will make certain that he will permit me to speak for him on the issue."

"Well, I don't know about urgent, but… it's _really_ been bothering me. I can't even really be happy that I've finally found my one true love." Sammi replied, seeming a bit flustered..

"That sounds rather urgent to me," Fawn said. "Just because it is not a matter of life and death does not make it any less important on a personal level."

"Thank you." Sammi's voice had undertones of both formality and discomfort, and Fawn couldn't imagine what was going on here. "I'll be back around noon, then."

Once Sammi had left, Ruby said, "I wonder what _that_ was all about." By this, Fawn realized that it wasn't something that humans would naturally understand. As a Golden Hind, she was often left perplexed by things humans took as a matter of course, and it was nice to know that her species was not the problem in this case.

But before Fawn could reply, Vicki said, "I don't know, but if we're going to get this thing planned, we should get to it. Seth won't nap forever."

Fawn smiled. "How right you are," she replied. Little Will was in preschool just now, but she knew very well that a young toddler's nap never seemed to last as long as his mother hoped when she had things she needed to get done.

"Now," Ruby said, turning back to their lists, "I had actually already spoken to some people about this, so I don't know if they've bought presents yet or not. At the time, I wasn't sure when this would happen, and this is really short notice. We don't have time to mail out invitations, so it's going to have to be word of mouth."

Vicki mused, "We could still _make_ invitations, though, and just hand them out in person. That way, whoever we invite will have something to remind them."

"I guess we should," Ruby said, smiling at Vicki. "I'm sure some people will want to be able to double-check the address. But we still have to get everything set up."

"Then we had best work swiftly," Fawn said. The three women got back to their planning.

* * *

><p>Paige almost wished that she had brought someone with her, to interpret her signs, but she had decided to do this on her own, and she was already here, anyway. She knocked.<p>

Mary Margaret opened the door. "Paige," she said, sounding both surprised and a little distant at the same time. "Emma's… not here." David came over to see what was going on.

Pulling out her notebook, Paige wrote, _I know. I came to see you and David._

Reading the note, Mary Margaret blinked. "Why?"

Paige had prepared ahead of time. She handed over the note she had written earlier that morning, and Mary Margaret held it so David could read it as well. Paige's note explained her realization that, since Archie was alive, someone else must have died in his place. Her note asked that they find some way to discover who was really buried in Archie's place. But she hadn't been able to put in that it might be Mike, because part of her was afraid that someone might agree with her, and she wasn't ready to hear that just now.

"I'm sorry," Mary Margaret said. "But Cora, she's _really_ powerful, and stopping her _has_ to be our first priority. After we take care of her, we can look into it, but until then, we really don't have the time." David started to say something softly to Mary Margaret, but she interrupted him, gently, but firmly. "Once Cora has been stopped," she insisted.

Paige wrote again, desperate to convince Mary Margaret and David that something needed to be done about this, and soon. _Someone's loved one is dead. Doesn't that matter? It might be Mike. I haven't seen him since the night Archie was supposedly killed._

Looking worried, but still somehow vague, Mary Margaret asked, "What do you mean, you haven't seen him?"

Blushing a little, Paige wrote that they had fought that night.

"Well then, he's probably fine. He's probably just staying with a friend until the fight blows over," Mary Margaret said. She meant to be soothing, but was too distracted by her own pain to sound completely genuine.

Paige gritted her teeth. She hadn't expected her concerns to be dismissed as if she were a flighty schoolgirl who didn't know what she was talking about. _Fine, then. Thank you for your time._ She was so angry the page almost tore. This woman certainly didn't deserve any thanks, but Paige had been raised to be polite, and that usually held true in spite of her temper. Once she had her notebook back, she turned on her heel and stalked out. David called after her, wanting to apologize for Mary Margaret's distracted behavior, but the mute girl did not turn around.

Almost in a daze, Mary Margaret turned back into the apartment and disappeared into the bathroom. Looking after her, David sighed. He hated to see her like this. As he turned to shut the door, something on the floor caught his eye. It was a box, carefully wrapped, with a red bow on it. It must be for Mary Margaret, but as secretive as she was about her birthday, he wondered who else in town could possibly know. He picked it up and turned it in his hands, as if examining it from all angles would reveal what was inside. He shut the door and set the box on the table.

When Mary Margaret came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, her hair freshly brushed even though it hadn't needed it, she walked over to the stand mirror. She stared into it, and for a moment she wondered if Mike was okay. But her own misery crept in, and she could almost see her mother's kind face in the mirror behind her. Within moments, she had forgotten all about Paige's concerns.

Knowing that discussing Paige's visit wouldn't do any good when Mary Margaret was like this, David started making breakfast.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin was enjoying the delightful shock on their faces. These two, who had envied each other so, now had the audacity to ask him to switch them back – well, they deserved to be told that the lives they wished they could return to weren't even theirs to begin with.<p>

"I tried to warn your mothers about this," Rumpelstiltskin said offhandedly, as if this information were unimportant. "But the woman who would be queen was desperate to give her husband a son for his heir."

"You mean," the weak little princess started saying, her voice faint. She couldn't seem to finish her thought, though, so Rumpelstiltskin did it for her.

"That's right, dearie. You're the royalty here, not him." He smirked at them both. Rumpelstiltskin was very pleased that his experiment with making Aenor a queen had worked out so well. Now that he had managed to acquire a sample of her hair, he knew for certain that Eliza was a much better prospect. Norah was a spineless girl, and given his success in the Blueberry kingdom, he needn't worry about trying to make do with the pathetic girl before him now.

"Impossible!" The boy who had thought himself special was frozen in a partial crouch; he had dared to threaten the Dark One, foolish boy. "I'm a prince! I am! You cannot take that from me!"

"I've taken nothing more than I was owed, and I cannae take something from you if it was never yours to begin with. It was your mother, and hers," he replied, pointing to Norah. "They're the ones to blame. I told them they would regret it, but they dinnae listen to me. Now everything is lost for your little kingdom. Not that it was such a much to begin with," he said, giggling slightly.

"What do you mean, lost?" The girl looked almost regretful, as if she felt responsible for the kingdom even though her family was not yet recognized at the rightful rulers.

Putting a hand by his mouth as if telling secrets, Rumpelstiltskin replied, "Once the word gets out, and believe me, dearies, it _will_, the man who would be king will lose his support." His hand came down as he shrugged theatrically. "Well, maybe not all of it, but enough to keep him from taking the throne. Your little kingdom is dying before it was even born. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Robert suddenly fell heavily to the floor as Rumpelstiltskin's magic released him. "Fare thee well," the impish little man mocked cheerfully, not particularly caring that he had just destroyed their hopes for the future.

* * *

><p>Once the word had gotten out, Felix's support began to dwindle. He still had some loyal supporters, enough to be taken seriously as a potential claimant, but not enough to actually take the throne. He had announced an immediate engagement between Robert and Norah, but she had tried to refuse. Felix insisted that she not make her refusal public, but take the time to think it over. She had agreed, but she made it clear that she did not intend to change her mind. Felix hoped he could do something about that.<p>

He had summoned his wife and daughter back to the fortress – his _younger_ daughter. He couldn't quite get used to the idea that he had two daughters. No matter what anyone said, he still loved Robert as if the boy were truly his own. Then he smiled. If he was right about this farm-raised daughter of his, she would not take well to being bullied by Ember. The girl Felix and his wife had raised was spoiled and bratty, and looking back, Felix couldn't help but wonder if Dorcas had doted on Ember because she felt guilty about giving Norah away.

At any rate, Norah was not likely to argue back, as Robert did – at least, not at first. This could prove to be the farm-girl's breaking point. Either she would grow a spine and stand up for herself, or she would crumble under Ember's constant goading. Either way could be used to Felix's advantage. If the girl simply couldn't take it, he could offer to send Ember away – provided, of course, that Norah agreed to the betrothal. And if Norah could overcome her timidity, Felix could plant ideas in Ember's head, things to bring up in a shouting match. If this girl did become stronger, he had a feeling she would be the type to want to prove Ember wrong, and he could use that to manipulate Norah.

It wouldn't be easy, and might take some time, but there was no way around that.

* * *

><p>Fawn had been glad to hear that Noah would be able to come home for lunch. She was making ravioli, filled with butternut squash instead of meat. She was also steaming snap peas, carrots, and some walnuts to add to it. The vegetables, sauce, and ravioli were all almost done cooking, though it looked like the vegetables would be ready first. But that shouldn't matter too much. Fawn glanced at the clock. Sammi should be back any minute now, and Noah would be home soon.<p>

Paige had offered to help make lunch, but she seemed distant and moody. Fawn wasn't sure if the mute girl should really be working in the kitchen in this state, so she had gently, but firmly, insisted that Paige should rest. Besides, Paige had already walked somewhere and back today, though she hadn't said where, just that she was trying to figure out who Cora had really killed. Also, Dr. Solano had told her to be careful. When Paige had tried to insist, Fawn reminded her of that.

This afternoon, Ruby was supposed to take Paige out somewhere so that Fawn and Vicki could set things up for the baby shower this evening. As they had discussed earlier, it was really short notice, but she hoped that everyone would be glad for a distraction from the stress of worrying about a powerful sorceress in town. Ruby and Vicki had both gone out to town for lunch so that they could invite people.

* * *

><p>Sammi waited until everyone was through eating. "First of all, thanks for lunch – it was delicious," she said to Fawn. Then she turned to Noah and Paige. "I don't know if Fawn told you, but I'm Norah, or I was back home. I'm Felix's oldest daughter…" She trailed off, watching their faces to see if they understood.<p>

"I see," Noah said. "The heir to what remains of Rolph's kingdom."

Paige nodded and signed something. No one bothered to interpret it for Sammi, but she was pretty sure that Paige was just affirming that she knew of Norah, as well.

"Alright," Sammi said, her voice rough. She cleared her throat before continuing. "I… I'm not trying to insult anyone, but I have to know. I mean, I don't know you, Noah, not here or as King Tristan, and I didn't know Princess Eliza, but I got to know Paige a little bit, and it just… it doesn't seem possible." Here she paused, collecting her thoughts.

Reading Paige's impatient hand-signs, Noah asked, "What doesn't seem possible?"

"Um, well, Felix, my, ah… father. He told me that his most trusted advisors… well, they said you were planning to take over our kingdom." She met Noah's eyes, then Paige's. "Is that true?"

Noah nodded. "Once the betrothal was settled, we intended to split your kingdom between our two," he said matter-of-factly.

Sammi's eyes widened. "So it's true? You were going to slaughter us all?" Her horror was evident in her voice and her expression.

"What? Slaughter?" Noah stammered for a moment before regaining some measure of calm. "We all wanted this to end with as little bloodshed as possible; how could you possibly think we meant to _slaughter_ your people?"

Sammi's gaze darted back and forth between Noah and Paige, taking in their horrified expressions. "That's what… Felix told me." She still couldn't truly think of the man as her father. "He swore that his most trusted sources claimed you wanted our land for your own people."

Noah took a moment to collect his thoughts, holding up a hand to forestall Paige's hand-signs. "When Owen and I broached this topic, we both agreed on one very crucial thing. These people that we meant to conquer are, in a manner of speaking, the brethren of our own people. Perhaps not in actual, traceable family ties, although there may be some cases of that, but our three kingdoms were once one. Our three sets of subjects were once _one_ people, with one king. We do not know if that will ever be so again, but we have both grown weary of the fighting. Not just because of the danger at our own borders, although that was a factor, but also because we both know that your people, at least the common folk, anyway, are sick of the squabbling, the uncertainty. They just want some stability in their lives, and we can give them that. That was our agreement. We want to _help_ your people, not destroy them."

Sammi stared at him, tears forming in her eyes. "And you would rob me of my throne?" But she didn't sound too upset at the thought.

This time, Noah waited while Paige signed to him. "Can you _take_ your throne, take it and hold it? Without the other factions rising up against you?"

With a small, sad smile, Sammi said, "I doubt it. Felix thinks so, but it was his dream, not mine. I just want what's best for my people." She gave a wry chuckle. "Although you intend to take them as your own, and I doubt I can stop you. So I guess they're not really my people, after all." Noah tried to apologize, but Sammi brushed him off. "No, that's not really important. I just wanted to know if you meant them harm. And I can see that you don't. So, um, thank you."

Despite their protests that she should stay for awhile and talk, Sammi insisted she needed to be alone so she could think. She made her goodbyes and left.

Paige looked at Noah very seriously. **I never dreamed that rumors of the betrothal would get so twisted,** she signed. She wrote him a note to translate the sign for twisted.

"I'm not so sure the rumors did, Paige." At her questioning look, he said, "I think Felix planted that rumor himself. I can't be sure, but I think he was trying to _force_ Norah into an engagement with the young man he had raised as a son. Do you remember hearing about that?"

Nodding, Paige signed, **Yes, when the news first came out that Robert and Norah had been switched, there was also talk of a betrothal. But that died down quickly, and about five or six months later, an actual betrothal was formally announced, as if it hadn't even been suggested before.**

"Exactly," Noah said. "Though I had forgotten the boy's name. But while Sammi seems like she would make a good ruler, I can guarantee you Felix would never let that happen. He may have given her temporary control of their faction, but from the outset, her imminent marriage to Robert has been connected with that. And everything I've heard about Robert – well, let's just say I don't think he's cut out to rule."

**I met him here in Storybrooke,** Paige mused. **You're right; he'd be a lousy king.**

"So I guess we really _would_ be doing her people a favor by taking them over and integrating them into our own kingdoms." Noah smiled wryly at Paige. "That was one of your father's biggest worries, that taking them over would do more harm than good. I wish we could set his mind at rest, but I don't suppose he's woken up, has he?"

Paige shook her head no. **He won't, not until my time is up, whether I fail or succeed.**

Noah put a comforting hand on Paige's shoulder as she tried to hold back her tears.

* * *

><p>Before leaving to head back to work, Noah took Fawn aside. "Don't tell Paige, but I stopped by the grocery store on my way to work this morning. I… I asked about Mike." His face grave, he said, "They told me he put in his two weeks notice shortly after the Curse was broken. He hasn't been working there for a few weeks now, and none of us knew."<p>

Fawn paled. "So they have no reason to be concerned that he has not been around." When her husband simply nodded grimly, she asked, "Please, Noah, after work, go out to our cabin? See if he's hiding out there. I… I hate to say this, but I fear Paige might be right to think that he's…" But she couldn't finish that sentence, and Noah swallowed hard.

"I'll check the cabin," he promised, his voice bleak. He, too, was beginning to believe that his brother had been Cora's true victim.

* * *

><p>Felix made it clear that he was pleased when Norah finally agreed to become engaged to Robert. The man who still didn't seem like her father had begun making immediate plans, but even so, his supporters were too few. Norah noticed he had been acting strange lately, and she spent more time than she should worrying about Felix's behavior.<p>

It was better than stewing over her upcoming marriage to a man she wasn't sure she could ever respect, let alone love. But he _did_ have far more training than she, the sorts of education a king's heir should have. Though it wasn't yet hers, she loved this fledgling kingdom and wanted to make it flourish. It would be nice to prove that foul imp, Rumpelstiltskin, wrong.

If Robert could help her build a strong kingdom, then he would earn her respect – and one day, perhaps even her love. It could never be as deep and strong as true love, but an honest affection, built over time, could be just as satisfying, or so she had heard.

* * *

><p>Then Norah finally discovered why her new-found father was so agitated.<p>

"My daughter," he said gravely one day, "I fear I cannot gain the throne, as I had once hoped. My advisors tell me that too many see me as deceitful, in spite of my ignorance of your being switched." He paused a moment and cleared his throat. "But you, they regard as an innocent, a wronged party. There is much sympathy for you. For Robert as well, but it is you that has captured their hearts. I believe you could regain the support we lost, if I renounce the throne for myself and am seen to fully support you. Then people would come to believe in my innocence."

Norah gaped at Felix. "But I am only a woman, I cannot rule! Should we not push the wedding forward and let Robert be the one to seek support?" It was only after she said this that she realized she was capitulating. When she had agreed to announce a betrothal between Robert and herself, she had insisted it be a long betrothal, while she tried to decide if she really could marry him. But now she had spoken as if the marriage were a sure thing, and she still wasn't sure she wanted Robert for her husband. After those words, it might be too late to change her mind.

"He is not the rightful heir to Rolph's line, my dear," Felix said gently. "He was educated and raised as a noble and a potential heir to the throne, but the birthright is yours by blood. The people must come to see you as their princess. You can tell them from the start that you intend to marry Robert, thus making him king. It will prove that you do not feel wronged by me and mine – or rather, one whom I _thought_ was mine. This could heal the rifts between our family and those who feel betrayed by the switch."

This was overwhelming for a young woman who had been raised on a farm. It hadn't quite been a year since she discovered that she was descended from King Rolph, but because she had switched places with Robert, she had actually been living here with her true family for just over three years, now. But she still missed her farm. The days had been long, and the work hard, but there had been no need of political maneuvering, and the only expectations set upon her were that she keep the farm running, and do her best to see it bring in a profit.

"So… how do we do this?" Norah tried to keep the sadness from her voice. When she had daydreamed about greatness, she had never once suspected it would be so tedious, so exhausting.

* * *

><p>Felix sighed. "It went far better than expected, my son," he said.<p>

Robert smirked. "I thought you were going to stop calling me that," he said, his tone making it clear that he was only teasing.

With a small laugh, Felix replied, "You're engaged to my daughter, now, my boy. I will become your father-in-law soon enough, though I think she'll still drag her heels about it. And as your future father-in-law, I can call you "son" if I wish to."

The two shared a smile, the kind of smile that spoke of shared secrets. Because no one else knew how much Felix detested Norah, but it was almost a private joke between the two of them.

"I'm going to arrange a suite for you in the fortress. Especially once I renounce my claim, no one will think it strange. After all, you're going to be king, my boy!" Felix clapped Robert on the back.

The grin they shared made it clear that they felt they had somehow won, though Robert carefully hid his own insecurities. He wasn't sure he even wanted to be king, but he could never tell Felix that. The man was practically his own father, and wanted only the best for him.

* * *

><p>Ruby had asked several women already, and the response was encouraging. Even though it was extremely short notice, some people were even contemplating changing whatever plans they already had. Like Cassiel, the bartender at the Cat Club. She had unexpectedly gotten the night off, when the part-time bartender had asked her to switch nights, and she had been planning a date night with her husband. It was a surprise for him, though, and she said she could just as easily surprise him another night.<p>

Ruby had a list of people to invite, as did Vicki. But Ruby was taking a break just now, and meeting Ashley for Chinese. Ashley walked up, her baby in the front-mounted carrier she seemed to favor. It looked to Ruby like Alexandra was getting a little big for that thing, but before she could tease her friend, she saw Matilda. The exterminator was on the list; apparently she was good friends with Mike, and had begun to strike up a friendship with Paige, as well.

"Just a sec, Ash," Ruby said. "Hey, Mat!" She had been told that the girl preferred her nickname to her full name.

"Hi," Matilda said slowly, looking like she was wondering why the waitress was calling out to her on the street like this.

"Hey, I heard you were friends with Paige, and I wanted to invite you to a baby shower for her," Ruby explained.

"Oh, yeah, I'd definitely like to come to that," Matilda answered. "When is it?"

Ruby winced slightly. "It's actually tonight." Before Matilda could say anything, she hurried on. "See, since Archie's alive, Paige is convinced it was Mike that Cora _really_ killed, and Mike's sister-in-law, Fawn, wanted to try to take her mind off her worries."

"Wait, is Mike okay?" Matilda felt a sudden clenching in her gut. If only she knew where to find her axe!

"Um, no one really knows. No one's seen him since the night Archie supposedly died, but apparently he's done this before, gone off to think things through when he has a tough choice to make." Ruby felt stupid for not realizing that Matilda might not have heard about Paige's concern for Mike's well-being, and as his friend, she would certainly be worried.

"But there's no proof that he's… dead?"

"No," Ruby answered firmly. "No proof at all."

Matilda pursed her lips. "No proof that he's alive, either, from what you're saying."

"No," the pretty waitress admitted grudgingly.

Sighing, Matilda said, "Well, there's nothing we can do about that right now. But I'll be there tonight. Where is it?"

"Fawn and Noah's house – Mike's brother."

"Yeah, I know who you mean," Matilda said.

"Here." Ruby handed Matilda one of the invitations they had made up. "It has the time and the address, and sorry again for the short notice."

Matilda nodded and smiled slightly. "Thanks. And don't worry about it. Oh, and I'm looking for my axe, have you seen it?" She took out the flyer she carried with her. It was rather creased by now.

"Oh, um, no," Ruby replied, studying the drawing carefully. "If I do, I'll let you know."

Matilda sighed in disgust. Then, realizing that it sounded rather rude, she said, "No offense, but that's what everyone's been saying."

"I, uh, hope you find it," Ruby said as Matilda walked away without saying goodbye. When she turned back, Ashley had a strange look on her face.

"So, I guess I'm not invited, huh?" she asked.

Ruby stared at her, saying, "Well, since you don't even like Paige, I just kind of figured you wouldn't _want_ to come."

"Well, I mean, that was back before the Curse broke, and maybe… maybe I was too quick to jump to conclusions," Ashley replied. "I mean, we didn't know who we were, or who anyone else was, and –"

Ruby interrupted her. "Paige knew. She was one of only a few who did, but she remembered. And there's something else you should know. She made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin in our world, for a way to save her brothers from a spell. And, um, her… price… is how she got pregnant."

Ashley's eyes were wide. "You mean she – with the _Dark One_?" She shuddered when Ruby nodded. "That's just… ugh!" She shuddered again.

"Yeah," Ruby said, "it is. But even though she knew who he was, she worked for him here, and… and they continued… doing… _you_ know."

"Wait, the whole time we were Cursed?" Ashley looked thoroughly disgusted.

Ruby nodded. "Yeah. And over time, she says she started to see the good in him. She, uh, says it's there, just buried." She thought of Belle, who seemed to have believed the same thing before she was shot and lost her memories. "Paige thinks of him as a good friend."

Ashley made a face. "And you're still friends with her?"

"Yes," Ruby said quietly. "Paige is my friend, and just because I don't agree with what she let Gold do to her, just because I think she's crazy for wanting to be friends with him, that doesn't mean I should just stop liking her. She's a lot of fun to be around, and also… after you… confronted her, she didn't judge. She knew I still cared about you, and still hung out with you whenever I could, and she was okay with that, even though she didn't like you. So… the least I can do is give her the same courtesy." She looked at Ashley uncertainly.

After a moment of silence, Ashley said, "I can respect that. But… that doesn't mean _I_ want to be Paige's friend."

"And that's okay," Ruby said, but her voice was sad. "But I hope that will change, eventually. You're both my friends, and I'd really like us all to hang out together. I think you two would really get along, if you could just… you know, get past your hang-ups."

"No promises, Ruby," Ashley said. She sounded like she thought it might be impossible for her to ever be friends with Paige. "But… if you need something for her, a gift for her shower, I've got some newborn stuff. Clothes, mainly. Alexandra grew out of all that, and a lot of it still looks pretty nice. Just, you know, if you don't already have a gift."

Ruby smiled. "Actually, I don't," she said. She hugged her friend, baby and all.

* * *

><p>The little bell over the door chimed, and Johnson looked up. It was Matilda, and seeing her gave him conflicting emotions. Part of him was almost derisive of her, as he had felt while teaching her to use that monstrous axe of hers. But another part of him felt that strange feeling again, the one he'd had when she went off with that filthy pirate. It had felt strangely like jealousy, but it hadn't taken much to realize that it was actually anger. He felt it again now.<p>

At the time, he had assumed the feeling was aimed at the pirate, but he had realized in the past couple of days that it was unlikely that he'd ever met the pirate before. So now, he wondered. For a brief moment, he thought that perhaps in the world that was, Muffet had failed to save his village, but then he remembered that he had been the one to train her. If he was angry at her, it must have happened _before_ his deal with Rumpelstiltskin.

"I _still_ haven't seen your axe, girl," he sneered, trying to sort out what he was feeling and why. "Constant pestering won't change that."

She glanced at him, her eyes cool, almost unfriendly. "You're an ass. You know that, right?"

His cowl shifted in a way that she hated, because it meant he was smirking at her. "I've been called worse."

Matilda frowned and turned away from him, pretending to inspect the incense sticks on the counter next to her. That was almost exactly what Killian had said, although she had called him a cad, not an ass. "I'm not here about my axe," she said, trying to sound unconcerned. "I'm here to buy something from you, but if you don't want my business, I can leave."

Caleb chuckled. "What could you possibly want to buy from _this_ place?"

"Well, teas, maybe, herbs. For pregnancy, and maybe even for after the baby is born." As soon as she said it, she winced, realizing how that might sound.

His voice harsher than he meant it to be, Caleb asked, "Isn't it a little soon to be worried about giving birth?" The thought that she was carrying that pirate's child sharpened his anger, and he no longer cared why.

"They aren't for me," Matilda retorted, her own voice pointed. "_Trust_ me, I am _not_ having that pirate's baby." She tried to calm herself, or at least to moderate her voice. "It's for a friend of mine. Paige. She's pregnant, right around 7 months, I think, and they're having a baby shower for her. I didn't know what to get, but I thought, you know, a gift basket of herbal stuff for teas. Maybe the kind of stuff we would've had back home, and maybe some new stuff from this world. Whatever you have that's safe for a pregnant or nursing mother."

Caleb's anger had abated somewhat when he realized that Matilda did not believe she was pregnant, and he put his mind to her question. He hadn't known more than the basics about herbs in the Enchanted Forest, but the Curse had given him an herbalist's understanding.

"Nettle leaf," he mused immediately. "Lots of vitamins, good for the kidneys, said by some to diminish the pain of childbirth, and for afterward, it helps increase the richness and amount of breast milk, can also help give the mother energy. Red raspberry leaf is good, too – it's supposed to make labor easier, and after the birth, it also helps with milk supply." He had begun gathering the items he was talking about. "Echinacea supports the immune system, helps prevent infections, good for both before and after the birth. Oh, and there's a recipe I have somewhere for a drink that will revitalize the mother and give her strength during breastfeeding, I know it uses the nettle and raspberry leaves, but there's something else, something…" His voice trailed off as he moved to his counter and began to rifle through a box of three-by-five cards. After a moment, he had found it. "Ah, oatsraw, of course. For calcium." He copied the recipe onto a piece of stationery that was printed to look like aged paper, along with the uses and instructions for the various herbs he had gathered. When he had finished, he looked up at Matilda. "You'll have to find your own basket, though," he said.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "Not a problem, Teacher."

He began punching keys on his cash register. "That all comes to… well, let's just say twenty-five, eh, Muffet?"

She wondered how much more it really was by the prices he usually charged. It was unlike him to do something kind for her, and she wondered if something was wrong with him. So although she felt like twenty-five dollars was a bit high for a bunch of dried plants, she pulled out her wallet.

But as Caleb took her money and put it into the register's drawer, he blinked. "Wait. Muffet."

When a moment of silence went by, Matilda said, "Yeah, that's me. So what?"

"No, I mean… Apparently I made a deal with the Dark One, back in our world. And because of it I lost all my memories before then, but I've, well, settled up with him now. So my memories are starting to come back a bit, and… anyway, was Muffet a common name in the world that was?" He sounded strange, not like the man she had known as Teacher.

"Um, no," she said. "That name was… something my mother made up. Apparently she craved muffins when she was pregnant with me. It didn't matter what flavor they were, she just wanted muffins, all the time." Matilda blinked away a tear.

"Because I could swear… I mean, I really feel like I _remember_ that name, from when I was a boy," he said.

Matilda shook her head. "That's impossible. Wolfs destroyed my village; everyone was killed. Everyone but me." There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"No, I'm sure of it. "Little Miss Muffet, brought in a tuffet, brought it to school today." There was more, I think," he said, almost lost in thought. He never saw the shocked look on Matilda's face.

"It can't be." Her voice was a whisper, and when Caleb glanced up at her, she looked pale and shaken. Who could know that little rhyme except the children she'd grown up with?

* * *

><p>Feeling exasperated, Norah strode purposefully toward the suite Robert had moved into. He was supposed to have been at her side, holding court and listening to the peoples' petitions. How could he learn to dispense justice if he never even tried?<p>

This wasn't the first time he had "forgotten" about something important like this. She wanted to slap him for it. He claimed he wanted to rule her people well, but if he wouldn't help out now, before there was a whole kingdom to be concerned with, how much help could he possibly be once Rolph's line was reestablished? There would be even more petitions from common folk, not to mention all the other things involved in running a kingdom – efficient food supply, a royal army, and trade with other kingdoms, just to name a few.

Robert had been trained for this, trained to think in terms of what was best for the kingdom as a whole. So why was he neglecting his duties? Why was he always running away, or hiding? Even before, when he thought he truly _was_ the heir to the throne, he still ran away. She wondered if he was simply too selfish to make a good ruler. But no, she told herself, he was probably just afraid of making a mess of it. That fear certainly haunted her. As she turned into the corridor that led to Robert's door, at the far end, she shook herself out of her reverie.

When she saw a pretty young scullery wench traipse out of Robert's chambers, Norah quickly turned into a connecting hallway. She stopped where she could peer past a large floral arrangement, in a very valuable vase that was perched on a pedestal that had been specially crafted for that vase, or so the story went. Regardless, it was a good place to hide. The girl had an almost smug little smile on her face, but she didn't seem to have seen Norah. As the scullery maid went out of sight down the other end of the hallway, Norah firmly told herself that the young woman had merely delivered Robert's dinner and left. He was a betrothed man, and besides, he'd had plenty of time to sow his wild oats while running her farm.

Even though the farmers had not actually been her parents, Norah still thought of the farm as her own. She still missed it, too, especially her friend Liam. She wondered what she had missed these past three years. Was Barlow a father by now? Were any of her other farmhands married? Had they hired any additional help in her absence? And what had they thought when they found out she was a woman, not quite six months ago?

Against Felix's wishes, she had sent a letter saying that she would never return to the farm. She had left it all to Barlow and his wife. She also sent official documents to the mayor of the nearby town, legally ceding the farm to her most experienced farmhand. Felix told her he had already sent a message, informing the farmhands of her true identity, and thus the reason why she could never return. Norah had insisted on a letter of her own, though, and Felix asked that it be her last contact with the farmers. She refused to make that promise, although she did promise that she would not reach out to them before the throne was Robert's. She hoped Felix would not realize that she had made no promises if _they_ reached out to her, instead.

She decided not to visit Robert just now, and instead walked aimlessly through the halls, thinking about her life, and the strange turns it had taken. Who knew she would end up in a royal fortress, one of the few remaining hopes for her kingdom? This was certainly the greatness she had always dreamed of as a poor farm girl. And yet, part of her wished she was still working her farm and just daydreaming.

It made her sad to think that part of her life was over forever. Even the draw of being queen didn't seem like incentive enough to leave an entire life behind. Perhaps when she _was_ queen, she could make a progress to the village, and visit. She knew Felix would be against the idea, which probably meant Robert would be against it as well, but the village where she had grown up had always supported the Royalist faction, and that sort of loyalty should be rewarded. _All_ the villages and towns that had been supporting the Royalists for years should be visited by the first royal progress of the new monarchy. Surely Felix and Robert could see the logic in that.

And in just a few days, Felix would perform a ceremony to formally renounce his claim to the throne. The ceremony had been adapted from a traditional ceremony of the past, wherein an aging king could choose to pass the crown to his successor before the king actually died. According to the records, it had last been used by King Rolph's great-great-grandfather.

* * *

><p>"You look like you've seen a ghost," Caleb said, half-joking. But part of him felt that this was serious, though he couldn't explain why.<p>

"Maybe I have," she breathed. "Take off your mask."

His hand went up to the cowl. "I don't know if I can."

"Why do you wear that thing?" she asked, suspecting she knew the answer to that.

"I don't know," he replied. "I think… I think maybe it was part of my deal with Rumpelstiltskin."

Her voice shaky, Matilda said, "Then you don't have to wear it anymore. You're square with him, you said so yourself." She took a deep breath. "_Please,_ Caleb."

"Al… alright." He was clearly hesitant, which made him fumble with it. It took him much longer than it should have, but when he finally bared his face, Matilda's legs gave out. "What?" he asked urgently. "Do you know me?" When she just gaped at him from the floor, he said, "Are you okay, Mat?"

"Yes," she finally managed to whisper, answering both questions. She just stared for a moment longer before finally trying to get up. When Caleb offered her a hand, she took it. It would have been very unlike Teacher to help her, but the man standing before was so much more. "Locke!" she said softly, reaching up to cup his face. She pulled him in for a kiss.

But he pushed away. "Whoa, wait a minute," he said, holding his hands out as if to fend her off. "I don't know you."

With tears in her eyes, Matilda said, "Actually, you do. You just don't remember it yet." She wanted to ask him how he had managed to survive, but she suspected he didn't remember that, either. "The night the Wolfs attacked, several villagers were taken into the woods, taken to the cubs for a feeding. You – you were one of them. It broke my heart to find the handkerchief I made for you, lying next to the tracks left when the Wolfs herded everyone into the forest. But… but part of me was glad that I didn't have to see you dead, like I saw so many other people I knew. People _we_ knew. I was glad because… because I love you. And I don't know if I could have kept my sanity if I saw you ripped apart… eaten." She was crying, now. "We were… well, we hadn't actually discussed it, but I was pretty sure – I mean, I was _hoping_… that you would ask for my marriage ribbon at May Day. We were… courting."

"Ribbons," Caleb said softly. "Lots of colorful little ribbons, each with it's meaning."

"Yes," Matilda said. "That was from the last May Day, when we _started_ courting."

Caleb looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Mat," he said. "I don't remember you, not like that. But I do remember all those little ribbons, especially… especially the green one. I held my breath, because my hands were shaking, and somehow I hoped that holding my breath would steady them. I didn't want to accidentally touch… um, anything… inappropriate." He stole a glance at Matilda's small breasts, and found that her bosom seemed the same size as the one in that little fragment of memory. He was sure she must be right, he must be this Locke person, who was all but engaged to her. But he couldn't remember it for himself.

"It's okay," she said, but from her expression, he suspected it really wasn't.

"I'm so sorry," he said, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture.

"You said… your memories are coming back, right?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

She took a deep breath. "Then it will come to you. But in the meantime… maybe we could… I don't know, see each other sometimes? Like, go to dinner, maybe?"

"I don't know about dinner," he said uncertainly. "I think it's too soon for that. But there's got to be other places we could go, and hang out. Maybe the arcade?"

Hurt by his obvious reluctance, Matilda tried to sound positive. "Sure, the arcade sounds great," she said. They stared at each other for a long moment, then she grabbed the bag that held her purchases. "I should really be going, now. Got to find a basket, and get this thing put together and wrapped up, and all." Without saying goodbye, she rushed out, half-blinded by her tears.

"Bye," Caleb said softly to the empty shop. The part of him that had been Teacher wanted to sneer, but his true personality was beginning to reassert itself, and he felt bad about having hurt her. He hoped he would remember more about her soon.

* * *

><p>Everyone who was important to all the factions had been invited to the ceremony. Some had sent a refusal, and a few had not even replied. Every one of those few had not bothered to attend, either. But many of the invitees were here. Most of them came out of curiosity, but at least they had come.<p>

Norah felt nervous. Beside her, Robert squirmed, and she knew he was tense, too. She tried to keep herself from fidgeting as well, but she couldn't stop fussing with the collar on her formal gown. No matter how many times she checked, it seemed to suddenly flop and fall. But it was always in its proper place whenever she felt at it, or looked into a mirror.

"You look fine," Robert hissed, annoyed. "Quit messing with it or you really _will_ make it look untidy."

She pressed her lips in a thin line, partly from irritation, and partly to keep from snapping back at him. They were both anxious enough without arguing on top of it. She did make a conscious effort to try to keep her hands still, though.

Felix and some of his advisors had spoken to the assembly at great length. Norah suppressed a yawn. Suddenly, Felix turned, beckoning Norah forward. She stood, adjusting her skirts slightly. But as she walked up beside her father, she carefully kept her hands at her sides.

"The concerns of my eligibility are not easily dismissed." Felix was following the adapted script; originally, it addressed the concerns of an aging king's health, be it mental or physical. "So it is with great regret, and even greater pride, that I must pass my right on to the next generation. Here stands Norah, my daughter, and among the very last of King Rolph's bloodline."

As expected, his closest advisor stood and struck a staff against the floor; once, twice, thrice. "She is your daughter, a woman, and therefore not eligible for the throne," the man intoned.

Felix nodded. "You speak truly. However, my daughter is engaged to a young man who had been trained in the art of ruling. He was not born as a noble, but he was _raised_ as one." Another advisor asked of whom Felix spoke. "I speak of Robert, one whom I was led to believe was my son, one whom I raised with the hope that he would one day be king."

"And how are we to know that this is not a skillful political maneuver on your part, to put that boy on the throne?" asked a third advisor. This part was something they had conceived themselves, and not part of the original ceremony.

Here Felix gestured to Norah. She licked her lips before she spoke. "I _chose_ to become betrothed to Robert. I feel that it would be best for the kingdom, since I am of Rolph's bloodline, and Robert has the necessary training. Also, know that I bear Felix no ill will, nor his wife Dorcas, either. She only wanted to give her husband a son who could ensure the succession, and in a moment of weakness, she agreed to trade her daughter, me, for a peasant's son. I beg that _you_ not cast blame upon either of them, for they are my family." She swallowed hard, and turned to Felix. Dorcas and Ember had come forward to stand with them, and she walked sedately over and let them embrace her.

She made a show of returning the embrace, and she knew that the smiles were all fake, except perhaps Felix's. After a moment, she turned and held out her arm to Robert. He shook his head, trying to look wistful. Norah was pretty sure that anyone who did not know him well would be fooled. "Please," she said, "you are a part of my family, too, though our wedding has not yet happened."

And finally, as they had planned it, Robert came over to join the family. This was meant to show the gathered faction leaders that there was no ill will among the family. Then the first advisor spoke again, to Norah this time. "We would ask that you set a date for your wedding, so that, should you gain the crown before your wedding, the people know how long it will be held in trust by a woman."

This decision was up to her. She had insisted on it. Even so, it seemed like everyone had some suggestion for her. But she had her own answer. Squeezing Robert's hand and giving him a regretful look, Norah said, "I vow to all of you that, to show how serious I am about my family's right to the throne, I will not wed my betrothed until the day the kingdom is officially passed to us. Should that happen, he will take the throne and his bride in one glorious day, and this way, there will be no need for the throne to be held in trust by a woman." In truth, she hated this kingdom's prejudice against women, but this could work to her favor. From the looks on all the faces in the gathered crowd, she doubted her family would ever gain the support to take the throne.

She would never say that to Felix, of course. But this way, if she were correct, there would be no need to ever marry this man. She did not love him, and she doubted his ability to rule. He always seemed to melt into thin air when responsibility called. But if she were wrong, and the factions _did_ come together, she would have to make good on her promise. And if that happened, she vowed to herself that she would do her best to make this kingdom great, with or without his help.

* * *

><p>Gold shifted restlessly on the bunk in the Jolly Roger's cabin. His eyes were closed, flicking back and forth as if he were dreaming, but his labored breathing didn't sound like a man asleep. He was watching a strange scene play out.<p>

He saw the library in Storybrooke, and Belle was on the floor, playing with a small child. The girl was unsteady, apparently just learning to toddle around on her own. Paige was there, smiling at Belle and the child.

The girl's eyes were green, but with a bit of brown in the center. Her fine, almost wispy hair was a pale strawberry blonde, but he suspected it would darken as she got older. He wasn't sure if would darken to a full red or to an auburn. It didn't take any magic to know who this child was. She looked very like Paige, but he could also detect hints of his own features.

Belle looked up, meeting Paige's eyes. Both women looked rather sad. Belle said, "She's all I have left of the man I loved. A man we _both_ loved, in our own ways. That makes her very precious." Something about the way she spoke made her words sound like a response to something Paige had signed, or perhaps written.

Gold jerked, his eyes popping open as he gasped slightly. He could hear Emma on deck, talking softly. He didn't hear any replies from Bae, so she must be on the phone. When he listened a little closer, it sounded like she was asking someone to meet them at the docks.

He knew he was trying not to think about what he just saw. If Belle and Paige were mourning him, that could very well mean that he wouldn't survive this poison. Nothing he had ever seen before had led him to that conclusion, but this _could _be a vision. As the seer had told him, the future was not always clear.

However, it could also have been nothing more than a poison-induced fever dream. After all, here he lay, feeling his life draining slowly away, worrying about Paige and her daughter, and their future, and desperately wishing that Belle remembered him. That strange, feverish vision could be nothing more than a manifestation of his own concerns. He had his son back now. Surely things were beginning to go his way.

He grunted and shifted his position again. He had never realized that poison could hurt this much. The pain would lessen with the presence of magic in Storybrooke, but everything depended on Mary Margaret, now. And although he wouldn't admit it to himself, he was no longer quite sure he could successfully manipulate her into doing what was necessary.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode, "The Queen is Dead."

Once again, it seems to me that the events of this episode occur the day after the previous episode. And in re-watching the next two episodes, it became clear that this is correct.

Also, I cannot be sure of ABC's overall timeline, but according to my guesstimates, it has been about 6 weeks since the Curse was broken…

I don't know when David found the box in the hallway, according to ABC. But since I was having Paige visit them that morning anyway, it seemed like a good time. This, of course, is for the purposes of my story only!

This isn't exactly a question for you, per se, but I am contemplating removing the current Chapter One (my "Disclaimer and Theories Page") and adding a streamlined version of that information to the beginning of "Chapter One: The Six Swans" (currently listed as Chapter Two because of the disclaimer/theories page, but the first chapter of actual story content). I've noticed in my story traffic stats that a lot of people read Chapter One, but not as many proceed to the actual story. If the disclaimers were immediately followed by story content, perhaps more people who are checking the story out would become interested and keep on reading. If anyone thinks that this is a bad idea, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll just go ahead and do it. Also, this will have the added benefit of putting my total chapter count even with ABC's total episode count. This means when they reach milestone episodes (for instance, the 50th episode, which was "Ariel"), my corresponding chapter will then be that same milestone as well.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and PLEASE review! Tell me something you'd like to see more of, or something you're wondering about. For instance, Lady Avotil reviewed a chapter saying, "...I get the feeling that Lacey might make fun of Paige about her "disability"; Mr. Gold would be put in a hard place as a result and Paige would suffer from it (emotionally) *sighs* again, poor Paige..." This has put thoughts in my head. Thoughts I had not thought before. Will they work themselves into my story? Maybe not the way Lady Avotil meant (since I suspect she was imagining direct contact between Lacey and Paige, which at this point in time I'm not sure will work out), but there is something I have planned that will definitely play out a little bit differently now. But you never know - I might be writing and all of a sudden, bam, Lacey and Paige meet face-to-face... that sort of thing happens to me sometimes.

But the point of all this is simple - your input is valuable to me. There are other instances where a review has made something happen, like Gold stealing Paige's panties. I meant it as a one-time thing, but it kind of became a running joke after Nelle07 said, "...I would love to see Paige's reaction if she knew he had her underwear". Without that comment, we would never again have seen Gold tucking away Paige's panties, and she would never have caught him at it (and then started carrying spare undies around in her purse, lol!) So please, review!


	37. S2 Ch16 - Perspective

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's show, only my own original characters and ideas.

Some of you may have noticed, but I have removed the original Chapter One (my Disclaimers and Theories Page) and added a streamlined version to the beginning of the first chapter of actual story content! Anyway, here's the next chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Rumpelstiltskin sought a royal descendant of the union between a human and a fairy, so that he could free himself from the cage before Regina cast the Dark Curse. Faced with only one viable option, he maneuvered a girl from a poor family into marrying the future king of the Blueberry Kingdom. One of the girl's ancestors was a fairy, and now her children will be of royal blood. He finds that his choices are Norah, a descendant of King Rolph in a war-torn kingdom and the daughter of the only fairy-descendant he had found that was already of royal blood, and Eliza, the crown princess of the Blueberry Kingdom, who would likely not have been born without his interference. As things turn out, it seems that this was a very good move on his part. He could use Norah if he had to, but her spinelessness would not only make things more difficult, but would annoy him more, as well.

When both Norah and Eliza are young, Rumpelstiltskin seeks them out to collect hair samples. It is these strands of hair that give him the information he needs. He uses a captured Will O' The Wisp to lure the girls. Norah is deceived and gets lost, giving up a lock of her hair in exchange for being magically returned to the edge of the forest, but little Eliza, at only six years old, recognizes the danger and turns back. Rumpelstiltskin is intrigued by this, and without her ever knowing it, he uses dark magic to make the brambles in her path catch hold of her. Frightened, she yanks her hair free, leaving several strands behind. Already, Rumpelstiltskin believes she will be a better resource for him, but he decides to gather another sample when the girls have grown up, so that he can see how they mature.

As his price for helping Robert and Norah to switch places, he takes the basket containing the leftovers of their dinner – not for the food itself, though he does find the cheese rather good, but for the strands of Norah's hair caught in the edge of the basket. But when he immediately sets out to collect another sample of Eliza's hair, he is thwarted…

~In Storybrooke, Paige nearly gets run over by a careless driver, and throws herself out of the road, rolling onto her stomach. Fortunately, she and the baby are both okay, but Doctor Solano puts her on light duty for the remainder of her pregnancy, just to be on the safe side. The same night, Cora kills a young man and disguises him as Dr. Hopper so she can frame Regina for murder. But later, after discovering that Dr. Hopper is alive, after all, Paige begins to fear the worst, since no one has seen or heard from Mike since that night. In an attempt to distract Paige from her worries, Fawn, Vicki, and Ruby plan an impromptu baby shower…

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin was approaching his prey. He kept out of her sight until he stood just behind her as she put her empty champagne glass on a servant's tray. Her own stealthy actions over the past half hour or so had amused him. Not one of those ten women had suspected what she was really doing to their hair, while her black wig remained immaculate.<p>

"May I have this dance?" he asked, smirking. She turned, her skirts swirling. He took in her mask, and knew immediately what she was dressed as, but he sensed that she couldn't place his costume.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "I see the old proverb lied. Death is a refined lady, instead. If only men knew, they would not fight so hard to live, I think." The princess smiled, and he knew that she felt both shy and pleased at the compliment. "Come, my Beautiful Death," Rumpelstiltskin said, his voice both devious and suave. "Dance with me awhile."

Rumpelstiltskin hadn't seen the princess since that incident at the seedy tavern, where she had sung bawdy songs and had nearly become the victim of some rather unpleasant men. He remembered watching her fight them off, and looked into her eyes. He knew she wouldn't be able to decipher his knowing look. Her confusion, which was also in part because she still couldn't make sense of his costume, made him smirk.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she suddenly cried, sounding delighted. "That's who you're dressed as!" Another look of confusion crossed her face, and he knew she was trying to remember if any of her correspondents had replied that they would be dressed so.

"That's right, dearie," he replied, smiling deviously. Rumpelstiltskin dressed as Rumpelstiltskin – who could ever guess that? After all, if Rumpelstiltskin were to sneak into the masquerade for any reason, surely he would never dare to flaunt his identity in such a manner. The glitter made the outfit seem even more like something a pompous nobleman might conceive. He gave an almost inaudible giggle that the princess didn't seem to notice. These mortals were so easy to fool!

"You're really getting into it, aren't you," the princess laughed playfully. "I've heard he calls people that!"

As he made some inane reply about having heard that himself, he smiled. He could see that this young woman was intrigued by him, and he, in turn, was intrigued by her. He was beginning to be quite glad that he hadn't been unable to get a lock of her hair during the tavern incident.

When she flirtatiously asked if he had ever made a deal with the so-called "real" Rumpelstiltskin, he dismissed the very thought that he had ever been that desperate. Just before he spun her, he added, "And I think I never shall be, now that I've seen Death herself." He could sense her blush; once again, she was both pleased and embarrassed by his compliment.

"Good," said Eliza when they were face-to-face again. "I don't think I could stand to be around him, or anyone that's been tainted by him."

Rumpelstiltskin's smile deepened. If she only knew…

"Although," he countered, "if you steal my heart away tonight, I might _have_ to make a deal with him just to see you again." As she smiled that shy, pleased smile again, he leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "Princess."

He greatly enjoyed the look on her face as she tried to play it off casually.

"Whatever makes you think I could be a princess," she asked, managing to sound flirtatious. Without realizing it, she betrayed herself by reaching up to feel at the edges of her black wig.

"No, dearie," he said softly, for her ears alone, "your flaming locks are still tucked safely away." She snatched her hand down as if she had been burned. "And it was simple, really." They had reached a part of the dance where he spun her out to one side and then back in again, but with her facing away from him; the next steps were danced in this position. He leaned closer to her ear to explain that other unwed noblewomen her age would be accustomed to such male conduct at a ball – the flirtations of would-be suitors, the men who bedded any woman they could, and old lechers who just wanted to press up against a soft, delightfully female body. He began to dance closer to her, pressing himself against her back and telling her that only a princess would be so sheltered that she hadn't before dealt with the sort of men he had described.

He slid his hands forward on her hips, pressing her soft backside against himself. He wished he could see her face right now, but he could feel her lust. He knew, in that moment, that she had never felt her body stir like this before, and also knew that he could have her tonight, if he chose.

He spun her out to the side and then back again, this time ending up face to face once more. As before, he stepped closer, pressing her remarkable bosom against his chest. He saw the realization in her eyes. She _had_ noticed similar male conduct before, but now she understood it.

The next part of the dance had several lifts, which required Rumpelstiltskin to place his hand in the fork of her legs. He enjoyed the way her face flushed as she watched his eyes. She could read his lust there, his dark thoughts of taking her into an empty room and putting his hand in that same place, but without any skirts or undergarments in the way. He stared into her eyes, letting her see his lecherous thoughts as his lips twisted in a delightfully wicked smile.

When at last the lifts were done, Eliza's breath did not slow. She danced close to Rumpelstiltskin, closer than propriety would recommend. His gaze greedily took in the desire in her veiled eyes and her slack mouth, and for a long moment, he watched her magnificent bosom heaving against his chest.

Rumpelstiltskin glanced toward the balcony and saw that the faun was watching him coldly. Any normal man would have assumed it was simply a distaste for the way he was dancing with the princess, but Rumpelstiltskin knew better. Well, trust a faun to recognize the Dark One. He kept an eye on the creature as he continued to dance far too close to this lovely princess. When the faun turned and left the ballroom, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Well, I really shouldn't monopolize you tonight."

"I don't mind," Eliza whispered. She clung to him just a little tighter, as if trying to keep him from leaving. He doubted she even realized she was doing it.

He smirked at her, almost indulgently. "Ah, but your father has been out of the room for a little while now; it won't be too much longer before he returns. And I dunnae think he would like the way I am dancing with you." He had no doubt that it was the faun's intention to bring his inappropriate behavior to the king's attention, but he sensed a certain reluctance to reveal the whole truth. Well, after that little forest brat Aenor had tried to weasel out of her end of the bargain she made with Rumpelstiltskin, Owen surely felt he had every reason to hate the Dark One. Rumpelstiltskin had foreseen that Owen would despise the Dark One and would not want to make a deal, but he had also seen that he _needed_ to make a deal with the father of whichever fairy-descendant he chose. But Rumpelstiltskin could already see the path unfolding before him. Owen _would_ make a deal; Rumpelstiltskin would make sure of that. For though he hadn't yet gathered a lock of her hair, he was already sure that Eliza would be perfect.

Turning his full attention back to the Blueberry princess, Rumpelstiltskin cupped the left side of her chin in his hand for a moment before trailing that hand down her neck and out across her shoulder. Switching to just his fingertips, he drew them back in toward her neck, but now tracing the line of her collarbone until he reached the center. His mouth twisted into an impish smile as he trailed his fingers down her chest until they caressed that enticing line of cleavage. She gasped softly, and he knew that she wanted more, just as much as he did.

"Mmm," he sighed appreciatively. He smirked as he added, "But I really do need to stop before your father has me beheaded."

Eliza licked her lips, looking suddenly nervous. "Are you going to guess at the end of the night?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be here that long," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "But who knows, I may stop to converse with several people on my way out," he teased, smirking at her. As if he cared about her silly guessing-game!

"Will you tell them who I am?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not." His mischievous grin widened. He may not care about her game, but he couldn't resist toying with her, just to see how she would react.

He was quite pleased with the results. Eliza leaned closer, without any warning, and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, though rather lingering. He sensed that she had never experienced a truly passionate kiss before. "If you want to buy my silence, you'll have to do better than that," he teased as she pulled away. Her eyes spoke volumes – she wanted things she had never really understood before, and she wanted them with him. His ego swelled and he smirked at her, as if daring her to do better.

And she did. This time she let all her passion and her hunger for his touch show. When he pressed his tongue against her lips, she moaned and opened her mouth to him. At first, she just stood there and let his tongue press into her mouth, but he only teased and tantalized her. If she wanted a better kiss, she would have to experiment, and learn how for herself. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small, satisfied smile as she began to caress his tongue with hers. She even slipped her tongue into his mouth, exploring almost delicately, but exquisitely. This girl was a fast learner, and he knew it was due to the empathy he had sensed from the first lock of hair, gathered so many years ago. She had just been a child then, and he had not realized that she would one day arouse him so.

Now that she was truly letting her eagerness show, Rumpelstiltskin responded in kind. Their kiss was passionate, and their bodies were pressed tightly together as their hands roamed over each other. His hands cupped her backside for a moment, but he moved them quickly. If he wasn't careful, he just might take her into an empty room and have his way with her, and he had already decided that their first time together would be her price for the deal they would eventually make. He wasn't yet sure of the specifics of that deal, but he wanted her to willingly give up her chastity to the true Dark One, not to someone she thought was a normal man in a costume. Besides, he rather liked the idea of her twisting in her sheets at night, panting for him, wishing she had led him somewhere private where they could sate their passions together, without ever knowing the true nature of the man she so desired. She would find out someday – he would make sure of that. And that thought was also quite delicious.

Always in control, Rumpelstiltskin was very careful not to disturb Eliza's wig as he pressed a hand to the back of her head, holding her mouth against his. He very carefully worked his fingers through the black curls, and then he suddenly pulled back. Both were breathing hard, and Rumpelstiltskin surreptitiously tucked a lock of red hair into the cuff of his sleeve. He knew now, without a doubt, that Eliza was exactly the one he needed. "I have to go now, but I promise you, we will meet again one day, though you'll not recognize me." Not when he finally took her virginity. But he intended to make sure that this new world brought many, many more opportunities for him to lie with her, and it would be in this new world that he would find a way to make sure she discovered that it was truly Rumpelstiltskin she had so desired tonight.

Eliza stood there catching her breath, unable to speak. He knew that his kiss had made her head spin. "And don't worry your pretty little head, dearie, I'll not reveal your secret." With a final, parting smirk, he turned and walked away, quickly disappearing among the crowd. Reaching into a pocket, he withdrew the folded square that held the soft, almost wispy hairs that he had salvaged, roughly fourteen years ago, from the brambles. As he made his way out of the castle, he compared the two samples of hair.

The Blueberry princess was still deeply intuitive, quite intelligent, and a genuinely nice girl. She truly cared about others, and would fiercely defend those she loved. Though she had inherited her father's temper, she had also inherited his ability to keep it contained when necessary, and to let go of her anger when it was undeserved.

She was stubborn now, and determined to get a fair deal, but though most would consider those to be faults, Rumpelstiltskin could tell that these traits meant she would not give up easily, if at all. Pairing that with her almost maternal feelings toward her brothers, he knew that they were the key. Put her brothers in danger, and she would rise to the occasion. He smirked, and decided to head for the Swamp of No Return, where he would start a chain of events that would give Eliza to him, bound of her own free will, awaiting his pleasure.

His smirk deepening, he opted to delay his trip to the Swamp. Instead, he would watch through one of the ballroom's great windows for a while. An hour or so wouldn't hurt anything, and he wanted to watch the masquerade play out. Eliza's father was trying, yet again, to present his daughter with a suitor, but Rumpelstiltskin knew that this time, it would work. The Wolfsbane prince was her one true love. That thought didn't bother Rumpelstiltskin one bit, and neither did he care that she would be betraying true love with him. He wanted her, and though she didn't know his true nature yet, she wanted him as well. It was as simple as that.

* * *

><p>When Ruby got off the phone, she looked at Paige. "Hey, uh, I have to meet Emma at the docks this evening, there's apparently some stuff going down and she wants me to watch Henry for a bit."<p>

Paige could tell that something was up. **Is it something serious?**

"It's just that they're worried," Ruby said. "They think Cora and Regina might try something, so they want Henry somewhere safe." After a moment, she added, "I guess I won't be able to make it for dinner tonight." She was clearly not too happy about the prospect.

**I could text Fawn,** Paige offered. **I don't think she'd mind if you brought Henry with you. As long as you think he'll be safe there.**

"Oh," Ruby said, sounding startled. "Yeah, that should be good. Cora and Regina would never expect him to be _there_." She almost added that Granny would be at Fawn's tonight, too, but stopped herself just in time. She didn't want to ruin the surprise of the baby shower.

Paige sent the text to Fawn, and they got out of the car. They had been sitting in a parking spot outside the gym. As they walked toward the entrance, Paige signed, **So, why are we at the **_**gym**_**?**

Ruby smiled. "Kathleen, the personal trainer who also does massages here? Well, she knows prenatal massage. Vicki and I were talking about you, and she mentioned massage to help you… de-stress."

Paige looked confused, and just a little suspicious to Ruby's eyes. **Wait, how do you know Vicki? And why were you talking about me?**

Ruby realized she'd made a mistake, but almost immediately, she had a flash of insight. "Come on, Paige," she said, as if it should be obvious. "Storybrooke's not _that_ big. I'm a waitress at pretty much the most popular restaurant in town. I know just about everybody. Vicki told me she teaches fitness classes at the gym, and Emma mentioned that you two liked Vicki's new class, some kind of cardio-dance thing. After your accident, you said you couldn't go back to it, and I didn't know if Vicki knew. So we started talking about you, and she _did _know already, but she said she hadn't had a chance to tell you about the massage thing herself. I had forgotten that she's Doctor Solano's wife."

**Oh, okay,** Paige replied, still acting a bit awkward. **It just seemed odd that you two would talk about me.** As Ruby held the door for her, Paige added, **By the way, did you know that Vicki is actually related to Noah and Mike?**

"Oh, yeah," Ruby said, trying to sound nonchalant. "You know, I think I've heard that before." She knew how empathetic Paige could be, and she really hoped she wasn't raising any suspicions. At least Paige wasn't like Emma, who instinctively _knew_ when people were lying. Paige probably had a good idea of when someone was lying, but her empathy had a much broader range than just lies, so when she sensed that something wasn't right, Paige didn't immediately jump to the conclusion that she was being lied to. Hopefully, Paige would just think that Ruby was feeling awkward because of Paige's reaction at hearing she had been talked about.

"Anyway, the massage is my treat, and afterward, maybe some ice cream, if you want." Ruby smiled at Paige, trying not to act like she was deliberately keeping Paige out for a while.

Paige smiled back, seeming more at ease now. **You don't have to do this, Ruby,** she signed.

"I know," Ruby replied. "I just… I mean, I know you're worried, about… things, and I just want to help." This was also the reason why she didn't want to tell Paige that Gold might be dying. She knew that Paige cared for him, and since there was nothing Paige could do, there wasn't any point in adding to her stress.

**Thank you.** Paige was a little embarrassed that her eyes filled with tears, but at least they were happy ones. She had a sudden thought. Maybe the Dark Curse wasn't so bad, after all. Here in Storybrooke, she had met some wonderful people that she would probably never have known in the Enchanted Forest.

* * *

><p>Fawn's biggest issue had been the food. The baby shower would take place right around dinner time, and she wanted to serve an actual meal, but that would prove difficult on such short notice. She was glad Ruby had thought of those lasagnas Paige had taken home. She had waited to get Ruby's text that Paige was getting her massage, then she headed for Paige's house to pick up a few lasagnas. And she had replied to Paige's text that Henry was more than welcome at dinner tonight. She didn't know how he would feel about being present at a baby shower, but she was sure Noah would be willing to keep Henry entertained if it came to that.<p>

The lasagnas wouldn't take long; they were already fully cooked. For any vegetarians, like herself, she was making meatless spaghetti with a rather interesting vegetable from this world, called a spaghetti squash. While they were Cursed, she hadn't tried it, but Paige had mentioned making it once, and claimed it was good. Fawn had discovered that it was quite delicious, and in fact, she liked it better than actual pasta. But then again, she had noticed that fruits and vegetables seemed to sate her better than man-made foods like breads, pastas, and cakes. She felt sure it was due to her nature. Golden Hinds were meant to be as one with the earth, and vegetables, even cooked ones, were more natural than concoctions that so changed the nature of the original food source. For instance, cornbread did not taste much like actual corn, despite its name, and had a very different texture.

She shook her head, knowing that there was still much to do. She couldn't waste time with such unrelated reflection. Part of her still worried that this was the wrong thing to do, but Vicki had jumped on the idea, and when they explained it, so had Ruby. But Fawn still wasn't sure that Paige would be in a mood to appreciate the baby shower, given her current fears. However, they had already invited people, so they would just have to move forward with it and hope that all went well.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin took two glass orbs and held them in one hand. He lay one strand of Eliza's hair across them and waved his free hand over the charm he was creating. A swirl of pale green smoke appeared, encompassing the two orbs and the hair, but not his hand. Then it faded swiftly, and he smirked. Stepping to the window of the tower room in the Dark Castle, he opened the casement. He twirled his fingers, turning the glass orbs in his hand. They seemed almost too large to manipulate with one hand, yet he made it look completely effortless. The hair, instead of falling to the floor, was absorbed into the two spheres.<p>

The orbs never ceased touching over the center of his palm, as he spun them around. He plucked a hair from his own head and dropped it, so that it wafted gently down toward the charm. It, too, was absorbed, and the orbs began to glow. He stopped spinning them and took one into his free hand. He held it up on his fingertips and surveyed it. The pale greenish glow seemed to shimmer with other colors, like an enormous soap bubble. Indeed, as he pursed his lips and blew gently, the orb lifted from his fingers and floated away in the breeze. He did the same with the other one, but that bubble floated up and around, back toward Rumpelstiltskin. It touched his forehead and clung there for a moment before it popped, making a soft sound.

He knew the other would take a day or so to reach its destination, but he was capable of being quite patient when it suited him. And then, once the connection was made, he could look into Eliza's dreams far more easily.

Twice before, he had snuck into her bedroom, once in the hidden manor where her father thought her safe, and once in her father's palace, after her brothers were turned to swans. He had used a spell to keep her sleeping deeply so he could press his hand to her forehead to read her dreams, but the first time, her thoughts had been filled with her princeling, and the second time she had dreamt of nothing but vengeance and saving her brothers.

That was part of why he was forging this more direct connection between them. He wouldn't have to physically go to her, or force her to remain asleep while he delved her dreams. But also, this charm would enable him to step _into _her dreams. He could make sure that she dreamt of him. Not being in the room, he couldn't see her writhing as she woke to find herself fighting the sexual frustration she wouldn't yet understand, but he would know that it was happening, and that was enough for now.

* * *

><p>The massage had left Paige feeling much better, both physically and emotionally. And she could tell Ruby was pleased that she wouldn't have to miss dinner tonight, but she seemed more excited than Paige would have expected. She couldn't imagine why. But there was something that she had decided.<p>

**So, before you head to the docks to meet Emma, could you take me to the convent? I want to speak to the Blue Fairy.** She hadn't dealt much with Blue, especially in this world, but she had realized that the fairy just might be able to help.

"Sure," Ruby said. She was confused, but also relieved. If Paige had come to the docks with her, it would have been almost impossible to keep her from finding out that Gold was badly hurt.

**And by the way, thanks a lot for the massage. It was really nice!**

"Oh, no problem," Ruby answered. "I just wanted to help, and you look more… I don't know, not Zen, exactly, but…" She trailed off, not sure how to describe it.

**Calmer? **When Ruby nodded, Paige added, **I do feel better. About… well, everything. I mean, I'm still afraid it was Mike that… well, you know. But somehow I'm just not quite as freaked out about it.**

Ruby smiled at her friend. "Good," she said. "I'm glad. Now, did you need to pick up anything at your house at all, or just to the convent?"

**No,** Paige signed, **I have everything I need at Fawn and Noah's. I've been staying with them the past couple of days.**

"Alright, then," Ruby said brightly as she put the car in gear.

* * *

><p>Paige waited for the Mother Superior, her stomach in knots. She truly was less upset by her fears, but they were still there, and now she was nervously hoping that Blue could help her.<p>

When the Blue Fairy saw her guest, she smiled. "Eliza," she said. "It's so good to see you. I've been meaning to find you and ask about your brothers. We _do_ have fairy dust now. I don't know how much would be needed to reverse the spell, but I can at least have another look at your brothers."

Paige bit her lip. **I'm Paige here. And I… I don't know where they're at. And Father and I, well… we found help elsewhere. I'm sorry.** Then she shook herself. What was she thinking? She had gotten so used to how many people now understood sign language that she had forgotten that there were still a lot of people in Storybrooke who _didn't_.

As she reached for the pad of paper and the pen she always kept in her purse, Mother Superior put a gentle hand on her arm. "There's no need. I may not know sign language, but magic has been brought here, so I can understand you anyway." She looked deep into Paige's eyes. "You went to the Dark One, didn't you?" Her voice was gentle, but Paige thought she detected a hint of reproach.

Flinching, she signed, **I'm sorry. Father and I both, we just… couldn't stand it any longer.**

"It's you and your father I'm worried about," Blue countered. "Rumpelstiltskin's help does not come cheap."

Paige just swallowed and unconsciously pressed her hands to her stomach. Blue gave a double take. "Oh," she said, sounding truly startled. "I, uh, I see… what your price was – is." She blinked at Paige's belly for a moment, then put her hand out and asked, "May I?"

Blushing slightly, Paige nodded.

For a long moment, Blue seemed lost in thought, standing there with her hand on Paige's stomach. Then she said, "She might have a talent for magic." When Paige looked confused, she didn't have to sign. Blue knew exactly what she was thinking. "You have magic from your mother's side, but as you already know, with magic that comes from a fairy ancestor, the gift fades with each generation. You yourself have only a little magic, which you don't seem to have used yet, but each time you do, your ability will be halved. So you will never lose the talent entirely, but there will come a point where it will be so weak you might as well not even have it. But your daughter… well, being the daughter of the Dark One in all his power, and also since she was conceived while you were… sealing a magical contract, I sense more to it. It may be like your own talent, which fades with each use, or it may be a genuine aptitude for magic. Or she may never be able to actually use her magic, but it _is_ there, inside her."

Paige wiped her face with the back of her hand, irritated to find herself crying a little. But she _had_ wanted to know if her daughter would have any magical abilities. She had come to the conclusion that she would just have to wait and see, and besides, that wasn't exactly high on her list of priorities just now. But it was still nice to know.

Blue eyed her thoughtfully. "This isn't what you came here for, though," she said, not as if asking, but as if stating a fact.

**No,** Paige signed. **I'm here to ask about… someone who died. Archie – I couldn't be there, but I know there was a body. **_**Someone**_** was buried that day, but now we know it wasn't actually Archie. And I think… I want to know who really died. Someone's loved one is gone, and I'm…**

Paige couldn't finish the thought, but it was enough. "And whoever lost someone deserves to know, so they can grieve," Blue said softly. She could tell that Paige thought it was someone she cared about.

**Exactly, **Paige signed, relieved that she hadn't had to actually sign it out.

After a moment, Blue said, "I think I know someone who might be able to find that out," she said. "If we _can_, I'll let you know."

Paige made the sign to thank her. She wasn't sure she actually needed to sign to communicate with Blue, but after twenty-eight years, it was a habit. While she waited for Ruby, Paige started telling Blue about how her brothers seemed to be missing in this world.

* * *

><p>Ruby didn't tell Emma where she was going with Henry. Emma would probably assume that they were headed to the diner, but if anything happened, that would be the first place Regina would look. Besides, Granny would be at Fawn's this evening as well, and Ruby had gathered that some of the other guests were formidable in their own ways, so Henry should certainly be safe there.<p>

As she drove over to the convent to pick Paige up, she explained the situation to Henry. "We're actually going to Paige's in-laws' house. Well, technically her future in-laws, I guess. Anyway, Paige is seven months pregnant, and when we all thought Archie died? She's afraid that the person who actually died was the man she loves, so she's pretty upset. Stress is really bad for a pregnant woman, so we're throwing her a baby shower to take her mind off it. If you don't want to be there for that, I'm sure we can find something fun for you to do." Ruby glanced at the boy guiltily. She hadn't thought of him being bored by the shower, but he very well might be. But before he could reply, she said, "Oh! By the way, whatever you do, _don't_ tell her about Gold. It would just add to her stress."

"What do you mean?" he asked, making a face.

Ruby sighed. "Well, it's um… it's complicated. But she considers Mr. Gold a friend, so it would just upset her to hear about what happened to him."

"But… don't you think she deserves to know?"

"Well, there's really nothing she can do for him right now, so all it would do is upset her," Ruby explained. "And we're trying to help her _not_ be upset. She's already had some… minor issues, I guess, with her pregnancy, and we're trying keep anything else from happening. That wasn't from stress, but we just don't want anything bad to happen."

Henry was silent for a moment, his face serious. "So, you think she might lose the baby?"

Swallowing, Ruby said, "We hope not, but stress _can_ cause problems with a pregnancy. We just want to keep her safe. After whatever happens next, we can tell her, but right now, we don't know how it's going to play out. Everything might be fine, and then there's not really a problem, but if things go badly, at least we can tell her what actually happened, instead of her sitting awake all night worrying about him. I guess that sounds kind of harsh, but not knowing is always really hard on a person. So, please, Henry, don't say anything?"

He thought for several minutes. Ruby didn't push him any further; she just drove along, glancing anxiously at the boy's thoughtful expression. As she put on her blinker to turn into the convent's driveway, he finally said, "Okay. But after it's over, we tell her everything, alright?" Ruby had really struck a chord when she said how hard it was to not know. Henry understood that all too well.

She smiled. "Yeah, kid, you've got a deal." After a moment, she added, "Thanks."

* * *

><p>While he waited for the spell to take effect, Rumpelstiltskin looked into Eliza's future, especially as it concerned him. The Curse was constructed to bring out things deep inside a person's soul, things they usually didn't even acknowledge, because every choice they made on a daily basis kept those flaws at bay. A man who was courageous and loving would become too weak and scared to stand up for the truth. And Eliza, it seemed, would go from being headstrong and confident to being shy, and too nice – to the point where she would let others walk all over her. However, there was a chance – not a certainty, but merely a chance – that she would regain some measure of her confidence at some point in time during the Curse.<p>

If that happened, she would start standing up to him. But his only other option would be make use of that farm-raised brat who wasn't yet officially a princess. Aside from not wanting to start over again, he also would rather risk Eliza's return to stubbornness than put up with Norah's sniveling weaknesses. And besides, it should be easy enough to make sure that he and Eliza had some form of agreement that would enable him to still thoroughly enjoy her company even if she did grow stubborn again.

In fact, he decided to test her even while she made the deal with him. He would give the girl a choice – be ravished by Rumpelstiltskin, or let some filthy creature take her innocence. Perhaps a Minotaur. Some people found them all the more disturbing for how humanlike they looked from the neck down, while they had the heads of bulls. Yes, that would do nicely. With that in mind, he looked into her future again. He was surprised to see that either choice would leave her with child, but that was an absolute certainty. And he noted that there was also no question of her choice. Yes, this should be quite amusing. He wondered if she would choose him because she felt he was the less distasteful choice, or if her lust would play into her decision. Even if it was her lust, she would not acknowledge that for quite some time, probably not until the Curse started to weaken. He could see that, as well. It never occurred to him that regaining her confidence and her acceptance of her lust might be connected.

Suddenly, he felt a sort of pop, and he knew that the bubble he'd sent out had found Eliza. And that meant she was sleeping, because he had set it up that way. He giggled and carefully folded the lock of her hair into its square of soft cloth before heading to his own bedchamber. This was going to be fun.

* * *

><p>Cassiel stood at her dresser. It wasn't until the Dark Curse had broken that she had remembered why she had mixed feelings about this music box. She wound it up and listened to its haunting melody. She was never sure if it was just the circumstances, but she still found this thing a little on the creepy side. The carvings seemed to be some kind of Celtic knotwork, except on the front, which bore a large pair of curved horns. There was no creature attached, just those horns. As she studied them now, they reminded her of fallopian tubes. How odd.<p>

It was the only memento she had of her two youngest sisters. But after what had happened to them – were they even _in_ Storybrooke? And even if they were, she knew she couldn't save them. As the almost-eerie lullaby wound down, she wrapped tissue paper around the box and nestled it into a gift bag.

"What are you doing, love?" her husband said.

She gasped and turned to find him leaning against the doorjamb. She blushed, knowing that if she had just looked into the mirror atop her dresser, she would have seen him there. He knew what that music box meant to her.

For a moment, she just stared at the gift bag. The music box inside chimed one last, slow note and was silent. "I can't keep clinging to hope, Ethan," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Even if they're here, we'll just have to do to them what we've done to all my other sisters." A few slow tears streaked down her face, and she wiped them away hurriedly. "I always felt like this thing was a little bit creepy, anyway. Ruby and Vicki are throwing Paige a baby shower tonight. It's kind of last minute, so I didn't really have much time to shop, and I couldn't find anything I liked. And then I thought, if this thing is just going to sit and collect dust, why keep it?"

It was her decision, of course, so Ethan didn't comment on that. Instead, he smiled and said, "You know, I _thought_ that didn't look like what you normally wear to work." His expression made it clear that he liked what he saw.

Cassie gave a small smile. Even though she felt that her work clothes and her going-out clothes were interchangeable, he insisted that there was a difference in the way she dressed for work. "Well, I was supposed to work tonight, but Kevin asked me to switch with him, so I'll be working tomorrow night, instead." She bit her lip. "I _was_ going to surprise you with a fun night out, but now it looks like I'll be having a girl's night."

Her husband's smile turned a bit lecherous. "Before you go, do we have time for a little of that fun you're cheating me out of, young lady?"

Putting the bag down, Cassie walked over to Ethan and kissed him deeply. Then she pulled back to tease, "Well, that all depends on how long it takes you to get it up, old man."

"Oh, that… won't be… a problem… my love," he said between kisses to her jaw. He took her hand and guided it between his legs.

As she felt the bulge under his pants, Cassie said, "Ooh, I see what you mean." She smirked and turned her head to capture her husband's lips with her own.

In a few short moments, with only momentary gaps between kisses, they were both shirtless. As Ethan's hands stroked over Cassie's skin, she could feel the calluses that he still bore as a testament to his former station in life. She drew her face back a bit, letting him kiss along her jaw again so she could speak. "How dare you put your rough soldier's hands on my delicate skin?" she asked provocatively.

Smirking, Ethan shifted so he could caress her breasts. "How's that for delicate skin, my spoiled little princess?" Cassie gasped, enjoying the rough texture of his palms against the sensitive skin of her breasts.

"Oh, yes," she breathed. "I _am_ yours, Ethan."

They were standing next to the bed, and Ethan lowered his hands to the waistband of Cassie's jeans. Soon he had her completely bare. She reached for his pants, but he smirked and fended her off. He began to sway as if to music, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, grinning up at him. Then her attention was caught by his hands as he began to showily unbuckle his belt.

He wasn't very good at stripping, but that didn't matter to Cassie. She always enjoyed the show when he did this for her. Once Ethan was naked, he leaned down to kiss her and whispered, "Lady's choice."

Biting her lip while she considered, Cassie finally said, "Spooning." Without another word, she turned away from him and slid to the center of the bed, lying on her side. While he climbed onto the bed, she arranged the pillows.

Ethan lay on his side behind his wife, and she propped herself up on her elbow, using the pillows for support. This left a gap under her ribcage, where he could put his arm through. He positioned himself and entered her from behind. She lifted her right leg, which was uppermost, and draped it back, over his legs. This gave his right hand access to her sweet spot, while his other hand, tucked through the gap she had left by propping herself up on the pillows, was free to play with her breasts.

As they came close to orgasm, she reached back with her right hand and grabbed his backside, using it as leverage so she could have some control over his thrusting. "Oh, Cassie," he said into her ear, his voice low and rough. That really turned him on, and he was close, so close, but his wife wasn't quite there yet. So he nibbled her ear and her neck, and moved his fingers faster over her sweet spot. He came first, but as his body spasmed and his thrusting became wilder, she felt herself let go. She started to call out his name, but it ended as a wordless cry of pure pleasure.

Several moments later, they were able to move again. Cassie rolled over so she could snuggle into Ethan's arms. "What would I do without you?" she asked softly. Though it sounded like a rhetorical question, Ethan answered anyway.

"You'd be a lonely, unsatisfied princess without me," he teased.

She laughed. "I suppose I asked for that one," she said.

"Definitely."

Sighing, Cassie changed the subject. "I'm going to need a shower before I go, now."

"Yes, you're a filthy, dirty young lady, you know that, right?" he said, failing to hide his smirk. "Grabbing my ass like that." She had never done it before.

"Yeah, well, you liked it, you nasty old pervert," she retorted, also smirking. She tried to get up and he pulled her back down.

"Kiss me again before you go," he whispered.

She only gave him a quick kiss. "I don't have time for another round, my love. But maybe when I get back."

"Let's make that a promise instead of a maybe," he countered.

Laughing, she said, "I never make promises to dirty old men." She paused in gathering her clothes to smirk at him. "_Especially_ the one I married."

He just chuckled as she disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin watched Eliza make her way through the masquerade. It was not <em>her<em> masquerade, though she was wearing the black wig again. This time, she wore a shimmery gold ball gown, with accents of black and white. There were strands of gold arranged among her black wig, as well. But her sweet, innocent face was bare as she made her way among the revelers.

This masquerade was filled with far more debauchery than her own had been. Everywhere she looked, Eliza saw men and woman dancing far too closely, their hands wandering freely. A man in a demonic-looking dog mask ran his hands over the breasts of a breathless woman dressed as a fox, and as he did so, he noticed Eliza watching him. He gave a lewd wink, and laughed as she gasped and turned quickly away.

A man sat on a bench, swaying slightly, while two women knelt beside him. They giggled provocatively as they peppered his cheeks with kisses. One wore a sun mask and a yellow gown with orange accents, while the other wore white and pale green, with a moon mask. The man's mask had a long nose that looked decidedly phallic, and both women giggled harder as the one in the moon mask fondled it suggestively.

Eliza blushed furiously and turned away. She caught sight of someone she recognized. It was the man from her own masquerade, wearing the same Rumpelstiltskin mask, but in clothing that seemed both fancier and more provocative. His pale gold shirt left a long triangle of bare chest, yet his blue coat, styled to remain open the same way, was crusted with thread-of-gold embroidery and gems along the shoulders and collar. The gems were of varying shades of blue. It was hard to be sure, but she thought his coat might be made of dyed leather, which made her wonder how on earth it had been embroidered so along the shoulders. She didn't know much about embroidery, true, but it seemed like leather must be much harder to work with than ordinary fabric. His dark brown pants seemed to be leather, as well, and were very snug, clinging to every part of his legs and hips. They were tucked into boots made from an even darker brown leather, which came more than halfway up his thighs. The boots were embellished along the top and down the sides with the same sort of embroidery that graced his coat, so that the boots seemed to almost frame the bulge between his legs. Remembering her own wicked thoughts from before, Eliza trembled, trying not to stare at that emphasized area. She could remember how it felt when he pressed up against her.

But the man dressed as Rumpelstiltskin was dancing with an exotic beauty in dark blue and silver. Her mask was white and silver, and somehow, without quite understanding how, Eliza knew that she was dressed as the morning star. Though her gown had straps that came up over her shoulders, the neckline plunged so deeply that the inner slopes of her breasts were exposed. Eliza could even see the very upper part of her stomach beneath the curves her dress revealed. Her exquisitely shaped lips curled into a knowing smirk as he whispered in her ear. She licked those lovely lips suggestively, her eyes locked on Rumpelstiltskin's. Eliza wished she knew who the man really was, but since she had no clue, she just kept referring to him as Rumpelstiltskin.

She tried to go to him, intending to cut in and dance with him, but somehow when she got there, he and his partner were gone. Another man was there, watching her approach. Without a word, he held out his hand to ask her to dance. But his eyes were fixed on the front of her bodice, and he licked his lips hungrily. She backed away, alarmed. What kind of ball _was_ this? He just smirked and began to stalk after her, with the slow, lazy strides of a man who knows just how the evening will end.

* * *

><p>Paige had been utterly shocked to find so many people at Fawn's house. They had shouted "Surprise!" as she came in the door. Fawn had made so much food, enough for everyone, and Granny had brought blueberry pies for desert. But Vicki had made special cupcakes for the shower. There was a small cake that said "Congratulations! It's a Girl!" and the cupcakes were all arranged around it. But it was the icing that made it truly special.<p>

Around the message on the cake, there were bunches of piped hydrangeas, and each cupcake looked like another bunch. The petals were piped in icing that had been layered in pink and pale purple, and there were even leaves piped in light green. Vicki kept saying it was a lot easier than it looked, until Granny finally told her to just hush and accept the compliments. Paige thought they were very beautiful.

But now they were on to the presents. Fawn was writing down who had given her what, while Ruby took all of the empty bags and discarded wrapping paper out of the way. Paige had opened Matilda's gift basket of herbs, Cassie's music box, and a bunch of adorable outfits from Ruby, as well as a sling carrier. Paige was a little confused by that at first, but when Ruby described how it was used, she decided she liked it a lot.

There were other unwrapped presents around her, too. Vicki had given her some cute outfits and receiving blankets. From Sammi, Mark's former fiancée, she had gotten baby wash, baby powder, a pastel pink rubber ducky, and a set of little bath squirters, all packed into a baby bath tub with towels and washcloths. Jane and Alexa Blue had gone together on a large assortment of bottles, pacifiers, and teething rings, as well as an infant medical kit that included a thermometer. Granny had crocheted a beautiful green crib blanket with bunches of tiny blueberries at the corners, as well as a matching set of a hat, jacket, and booties. The jacket set was in variegated shades of purple and light blue, with scalloped edges in white.

Paige had been surprised by some of the people who had shown up. Two of Fawn's sisters had come. Paige had been rather under the impression that Fawn really didn't have any contact with her sisters, and she had admitted that it was true, but here in Storybrooke, she had reconnected with two of them. Lydia Grove, Ed's sister, was there, too. In fact, it was her present that Paige was currently opening. It turned out to be a beautiful quilt. Paige didn't know much about quilting, but she knew that there were different patterns, and this one looked like nothing she had ever seen before. When she signed that, someone translated, and Lydia said the pattern was called "spools."

"It's actually for a full-size bed," the shy girl admitted, "but you can always put it out on the floor for her to play on while she's little, and she can put it on her bed when she gets older."

Paige thanked her, and told her it was beautiful. Then she turned to another present. She handed the card to Vicki, who read out the message to the gathered women and Henry, who had decided to stick around and see what a baby shower was like. "This is from Asphodelle," Vicki said, reading the name inside the card.

"Actually," Fawn's sister replied, "most people here call me Delle for short." She watched anxiously as Paige opened the large package. It turned out to be organic cotton cloth diapers. Delle piped up again, saying, "I got liners for them, the kind that you can just flush down the toilet. They're biodegradable. So it makes them a lot easier to clean."

Paige smiled. Even though she had never met Fawn's sisters before, she was not surprised that Delle's gift was eco-friendly. She wondered what Fawn and the other sister, Skye, had gotten her, but she soon found out. Skye's gift was an assortment of bath products and lotions that were made without all the chemicals this world tended to put into things, and Fawn's was a wooden rattle and a white wicker basinet. Paige thought how handy that would be. She could keep the basinet downstairs so she wouldn't have to run up and down the steps every time she put her daughter down for a nap or so she could do something that required both hands.

Another guest that really surprised her was the hostess from the Chinese restaurant, Megumi. Her gift was an assortment of baby toys, and at first, Paige thought the little bracelet of black and orange beads was supposed to be a toy, as well. But Megumi explained. "That will protect your child from the aswang." When it became clear that no knew what she meant, she added, "Aswang are terrible creatures that eat children." She looked uncomfortable to be bringing it up at what was supposed to be a fun, happy occasion.

"Oh," Sammi said, suddenly connecting something she remembered. "You mean like the Tik-Tik?"

Megumi gave a relieved smile. "Yes, that's another name for the aswang."

Suddenly Sammi tilted her head and eyed Megumi quizzically. "Sorry, Megumi," she said, "but… what happened to your accent?"

The other woman flushed a little. "In this world, it is apparently something of a stereotype that the men and women who work at Chinese restaurants don't speak English very well. But in reality, that is not how I speak at all."

"I see that. I'm sorry, it just… sorry." Sammi seemed embarrassed.

Megumi smiled warmly. "Think nothing of it," she replied.

By this time, Paige was about to open the last gift. She looked around the room, surprised again to notice Marsha sitting on the far side of the room. It was kind of awkward to have her here, but at least she seemed to be making a genuine effort to be more social. And how odd, that the last gift would be from her. But suddenly, Paige paused. She turned her head, sniffing. Given the number of people in the room, Fawn had opened the windows to cool things off a bit.

**Does anyone else **_**smell**_** that?** Paige signed. It was a hot sort of smell, and not very pleasant.

Someone translated the remark for those who didn't understand sign language, and everyone sniffed. No one else seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary, though, so Paige dropped it. The smell had faded pretty quickly anyway, unless she had simply gotten used to it.

Marsha's gift turned out to be a gorgeous mobile. Thick pieces of wire curved up and down from a pink sphere. The bottom wires had a mermaid dangling from the center, with seahorses and large, translucent blue and green beads around the outside. The top wires curled around and had bubble shapes and more beads dangling from shorter strings. Paige felt her mouth drop open. She looked up at Marsha, who bit her lip and looked embarrassed.

"It's just something I made, I hope you like it," Marsha said softly.

"You made that?" Fawn had heard about this young woman, and how Paige had handled the hearing she and Horne held for her.

"Well, I mean, after Mother – after I was left alone in the Swamp, I was really bored, so one day I just collected a bunch of random things that I thought were pretty and started making stuff with them. And I liked it, so I kept doing it here in Storybrooke. I painted the mermaid, seahorses, and bubbles on heavy cardstock, and I thought it looked nice."

"It does," Fawn replied warmly. "It's very beautiful, Marsha." Paige signed to Fawn, who added, "Paige thinks so, too."

"Um, just… hang it out of reach, I don't think babies should be grabbing at it," Marsha said. Paige, still staring at the mobile, nodded her understanding.

She was about to sign something when her cell phone rang. Making a face, she pulled it out. Who could be calling her? Everyone who had her number knew she couldn't speak. When she saw the name, she paled. Mr. Gold?

* * *

><p>Eliza had successfully evaded the man who had accosted her. Across the room, she could see Rumpelstiltskin, dancing with another exotic-looking woman. This one had warm, tanned-looking skin, a rosebud mouth, and the ringlets that caressed her bare shoulders were such a dark brown that they were almost black. She wore several shades of green, with lots of brown and a few hints of gold here and there. Her mask reminded Eliza of a tree, complete with a bird's nest tucked into the fork of two branches. In spite of the distance, Eliza could make out tiny animals and flowers embroidered on the gown.<p>

The woman was dressed as the forest. That was an unusual costume, and the beautiful woman had pulled it off exquisitely, though very daringly. The whole gown consisted of patches of green, and her skin showed in several places. Her navel seemed suspended among leafy branches, and as the gown swept elegantly to her feet, the bottom was patterned to look like the trunks of trees. Between those brown trunks, the fabric was so thin that her filmy green petticoats showed through, looking much like the forest floor. But even her petticoats were so sheer that her legs could be seen through them. And unless her bloomers were indecently short, there was no sign that she was even wearing any.

Though her gold gown was very beautiful, it also seemed rather plain to Eliza. She wished she was wearing something more clever. Even her own gown, her costume as a female form of Death, would be better than this simple ball gown. At least she was wearing some very beautiful bracelets. The one on her left wrist was a golden cuff bracelet that was covered in beautiful filigree. For some reason, the pattern almost reminded her of a paintbrush. Her right wrist was wrapped in delicate gold chains that stretched down to a thin gold band on her middle finger. Other than those bracelets, her arms were bare.

The gown also left her shoulders bare, but it came up to a point in the front, covering nearly all of her cleavage. There was fine embroidery along the edges, done in gold, that almost looked like an artist's brushstrokes. She wondered if that was intentionally done to match the filigree on her cuff bracelet. But still, compared to the beautiful women Rumpelstiltskin was dancing with, her gown seemed rather plain. She had been so proud of her Death costume, but here, she could see that she was not as clever as she had thought herself to be. The Morning Star? The Forest? She knew these were costumes she would never have dreamed up on her own.

As she made her way across the room again, her admirer caught up with her. She hadn't really noted his costume before, but now she saw that he was dressed as a mythological creature. Some claimed that ancestors of theirs had seen one, but many insisted it had never existed. He wore snug white pants, shimmering with fine, silvery threads, and short, shining boots. The boots were rather strange-looking, shaped as much like a horse's hooves as a shoe could be – his heels were clearly lifted, but there was no evident support attached to the shoe, so it must be like constantly walking on tip-toe. The toes were a gold that somehow looked almost silvery, and tufts of what was meant to be horsehair extruded over the edge of the supposed hooves. He wore no coat or shirt, just a white vest that he had left open down the front except for a single button. He wore a unicorn mask. The horn on the mask and the short gloves on his hands were the same silvery-gold as the hooves on his boots. But on his back he wore graceful white wings. Looking more closely, Eliza saw that the place where his vest was buttoned almost concealed a strap across his ribs, no doubt to support those wings.

"Alicorn," she breathed softly.

"I've never liked that name for it," he said. His tone of voice suggested a far more intimate conversation. "I call it a unisus, myself." He laid his gloved hands on either side of her waist. "Let's dance," he whispered, sliding his hands up, far too close to her breasts for comfort.

She drew away and almost ran from him, and he followed again, still a slow, predatory stalk that seemed to suggest things that she still didn't quite understand, though she had wanted them with the man masquerading as Rumpelstiltskin. She looked for him again, but stumbled against a wall. A door she hadn't seen opened up, and inside, several men and women seemed to be having a large-scale pillow fight on an enormous bed. There were feathers flying everywhere, and she was appalled to note that many of the men were completely shirtless. Then she glanced at the floor, which was littered with all manner of bloomers, petticoats, stockings, and shoes. Shocked, she looked back at the bed. Weren't those women wearing _anything_ under their skirts?

At that moment, a figure stepped out from behind the bed. It was Rumpelstiltskin! He was still dressed as he had been before, so she thought he had perhaps not taken part in whatever was really happening on that bed, but why was he even in the room? He came to the door and slipped out, forcing her to step back. He closed the door behind himself, smirking suggestively.

She opened her mouth, but he put his hand up in a peremptory gesture. "Mustn't ask, dearie," he lilted. "Such activities are no business of innocents like yourself." He drew the word business out into three syllables.

Eliza swallowed hard, and suddenly, they were out on the dance floor. He took her right hand in his, and bowed low over it. His lips brushed against her knuckles, partly over the delicate chains of her bracelet. The contact sent a pleasant, shivery feeling up Eliza's bare arm. After he released her hand, she spread her skirts in a low curtsy. As she stood, he gave a delighted laugh.

"Lovely costume, dearie," he said, staring at her skirts. Looking down, Eliza saw only gold at first. Then she realized that there were several shades of gold. Along the right side of her skirt, a golden sun seemed to be peeking over a golden horizon. Across the front, the sunlight spilled across a golden landscape, to the left side of her wide skirt, where a golden bed had been woven into the fabric. It was a canopy bed, and a golden woman was waking to find a golden man sitting beside her, leaning over her and staring lovingly into her eyes. It was a lovely scene, but why was it all in shades of gold? And how had she not noticed it before?

Then Rumpelstiltskin reached up and, with the back of one finger, lightly touched the embroidered paint-strokes at the very top of the pointed front of her bodice. Her lips parted, and she almost wished her bodice did not come so high, so she could feel his fingers at the edge of her cleavage again. Then she understood that the embroidery was very specific to her costume, but she still couldn't quite grasp it until Rumpelstiltskin quoted an old poem.

"'I'll paint you mornings of gold,'" he said, smirking.

"Mornings of Gold," Eliza murmured. That was a truly incredible costume! She was so lost in thought that she almost didn't notice when Rumpelstiltskin put one hand on her waist and took her hand, and began dancing with her. Simply by rote, she put her free hand on his arm and danced.

When she looked at him, his leering smirk made her tremble. She knew she shouldn't want him, but she did. Her body seemed to ache for him. But she had found her true love; how could this erotic stranger still have such a hold on her? She wanted to say something to him, but what? Should she tell him that she was in love with someone else? Should she stop dancing with him? But before she could decide, she found that they had danced all the way out into a deserted hallway. Her breath quickened.

He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her passionately. She responded in kind, but she worried that someone might come down the hall. So she was relieved when, still kissing her, Rumpelstiltskin maneuvered her into an empty room. As he backed her into the room, she felt a table press against the backs of her thighs, but he kept going, pushing her into a seated position on the table, still kissing her.

She didn't notice that he was pulling up her voluminous skirts and petticoats until she suddenly realized that they were bunched up around her waist. She gasped when she felt him press up against her, with only his leather pants and her thin bloomers between their bodies. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop, but another part of her was desperate for him to continue. She could feel the tops of his tall, snug boots against the insides of her thighs.

He kissed her neck as he worked his hips against her, listening to her gasps and small cries of pleasure. She was a little embarrassed by the noises she was making, but she couldn't have stopped herself if she wanted to. Her whole body felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, she woke. It was disappointing to find that she was in her own bed, in her father's castle. She still felt hot, and she twisted her body, feeling an ache in her groin. She clutched a pillow to her face and chest, whimpering into it as she waited, hoping the sensations would fade. And they did, but excruciatingly slowly.

Once the urgency had gone, she got out of bed. Pulling off her sweat-soaked shift, she lifted the heavy jug of cool water and poured some into her washbasin. She began to wash the sweat off her body, embarrassed to find a wetness between her legs. She had learned that this sort of thing happened when a man and a woman consummated their love, but she had thought they had to be naked for it to happen. Also, she had not realized it could happen on its own, just from a dream that seemed to be leading up to such things. As she continued to sponge herself clean, she wondered whether she should try to wash her shift and sheets herself, so no one else would find out.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin couldn't see Eliza now that he had pushed her out of the dream, but he knew that he had worked her into quite a state. She would wake writhing, desperate for sexual pleasure, but she was far too innocent to really understand all that just yet. Her confusion had been obvious. For some reason, she seemed to be under the impression that falling in love would magically stop all feelings of attraction to someone else, but she had learned tonight that it didn't work that way. He smirked as he stepped out of the dream himself, wondering how long it would take for her to accept her lust.<p>

* * *

><p>Gold knew that if this hadn't happened, he and Baelfire would not have had this conversation. If he did die today, he hoped his son would be good to Belle. But he wasn't sure if he wanted her to regain her memories. If she did, she would find that she had lost her one true love, and that would hurt her. But if she didn't, she might well go on as she was for the rest of her life, not knowing anything about her past or who she had cared for.<p>

He shifted, and patted Bae's arm. When his son raised his head, Gold said, "There's something else you need to know, Bae. There's… another young woman. We have a past, she and I, and now… well, she's carrying my child. Your sister, Bae." He tried to read his son's face, but couldn't, so he continued. "Please, promise me that if she ever needs anything, you'll do your best to help," he said. "She's a wonderful young woman, and I've put her through so much. She deserves to be taken care of."

Clearing his throat, Bae said, "I… I'll do what I can, Papa. But… a sister?"

Mr. Gold grunted as another wave of pain struck. "Yes," he said, his teeth gritted. "Speaking of which, I need to say goodbye to her, as well." He lifted the phone again, and Bae let go of his hand so he could call Paige.

When she answered, he tried to picture her face. He knew she would be worried that he had called her, but this was so much more immediate than texting, and she deserved to hear his voice one last time. He rather thought she would want that.

"Paige," he said, "I know you can't respond, but I just – there are some things I needed to tell you, but there's not much time. I'm… I'm so sorry, dove." He choked back the tears. He needed to talk to her, not cry at her. Although he knew that if she were here, she would hold him, and stroke his hair, and he wished he could have that right now. "I should never have tempted you to betray your true love. I cherish the friendship we've built, truly, I do. But if I could go back, and be more respectful of your love, I would. I hope I haven't ruined your chance for happiness, and I hope your young man comes back to you. I'm… I'm dying, Paige. I wish I could make sure you'll have the future you deserve, but there just… I don't have much time, dove, and I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me." He hung up without saying goodbye, and cried. Baelfire grasped his hand again, holding on tightly.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin leered down at the shackled princess as he stood up, the freshly-signed contract in his hand. It was time for her to pay the price. "Now remember, princess, not a sound," he reminded Eliza, grinning wickedly.<p>

He stroked her legs, giggling very softly as she tried to remember not to pull away from him. After all, it surely hurt, the way she was chained. He knew she was a very determined young woman, and he decided to see how far he could push her. Getting down on the ground with her, he started to bite her legs. He made his way up from her ankle to her thigh, then started on the other side. He could feel her most intimate parts shift slightly against his face as she tried not to squirm. Her shock and horror were obvious, but he knew that if she ever looked back at this once she'd accepted her lust, she would realize that this wasn't as bad as she thought.

Biting her was surprisingly enjoyable. When he came to her stomach, he paused for a moment. Then he wrenched her hips to one side so he could bite into the soft flesh of her behind. He knew, even without her quiet groan of pain, which fell within the specifications of their deal, that he had hurt her back. Why he had done it, he couldn't say. It felt almost instinctual, so perhaps it was something that needed to be done for the future, but he couldn't see what, if anything, would come of it. So he dismissed it and continued, biting her breasts and her arms.

When he was done, he looked down at her. Some of the bite marks were bleeding, but only slightly. He hadn't meant to make her bleed, but she had handled it very well. He knew she was a virgin, and since he had already hurt her more than he had intended, he settled himself between her legs and started working her over with his tongue. After a few minutes of that, he pressed a finger against her opening, gently working it inside her. He could feel her body responding to his touch. Smirking, he kept stimulating her until the wetness began to spread. This would still be painful for her, but not as painful as it could have been.

Once his pants were undone, he pressed up against her, very slowly working his way in until he could go no further. Then he gave a hard thrust, and he could see by her face that her maidenhead was gone. He held himself back, moving very slowly until her pain started to fade. Then he let himself get lost in the rhythm of sex, propping himself up on his hands. Eliza turned her head, looking along the forest floor to avoid his eyes, but he knew what was there. Even though she believed that this was a terrible ordeal, she couldn't fight the pleasure that was building, but since she was so inexperienced, she didn't understand what was happening. He knew he had the entire duration of the Curse to fix that. Speaking of which, he had timed things perfectly, as usual. "The Curse!" he cried. Just as he came, it struck, and they disappeared.

* * *

><p>Paige was very irritated with Ruby. She had to have known, and didn't tell her! But that wasn't important at the moment. If there was something she could do to help, she would do it!<p>

She had stepped out onto the porch to take the call. She had smelled that hot smell again, but she ignored it. Given what Gold was saying to her, a smell, however odd, was just not important. She hadn't bothered going back inside when Gold hung up.

As she approached the pawn shop, she saw Regina rushing down the street, away from the shop. Did that mean Gold was no longer in danger? But peering into the window, Paige caught a glimpse of a woman holding her hand out as if trying to cast a spell. This must be Cora, and somehow, she had a sense that the doorway was protected. Cora was trying to break in. There had been real pain in Gold's voice, so the danger probably wasn't all from Cora. Rushing to the alley, Paige counted out her steps, trying to find the exact spot on the outer wall that corresponded to the doorway Cora was attacking.

She needn't have bothered, because she could sense the spot once she got closer. Placing her hands on the brick wall, Paige focused, feeling the barrier in front of her. Without really knowing how to use her tiny magical talent, Paige willed the barrier to stand, to protect him. She knew she was no match for Cora, but maybe she could delay until help arrived. She pushed down her panic, as well as the thought that there might not even _be_ help on the way.

For several minutes, she stayed that way. Then suddenly, the barrier broke with a vengeance, and Paige fell backward onto the pavement.

* * *

><p>Much later, Gold looked around the front room of his shop. It was a mess, but after the fight out here, it was hardly surprising. Moving almost mechanically, he started picking up fallen items and broken glass. He was wearing heavy-duty gloves to protect his hands. He could have used his magic, but he felt like using his hands right now. It was strangely soothing to do so, and he wondered if that was because it would have pleased Belle, if only she could remember who she was.<p>

He had survived the day, but he wasn't as happy about it as he would have expected. Cora had loved him. _That_ was why she had torn out her own heart, so she could do what was necessary to achieve her ambitions. This was the second time he had killed a woman he'd once loved. Mary Margaret may have done the dirty work this time, but only because of his influence. He could still picture Milah's face as she died, loving that filthy pirate to the end. And Cora's face, as she looked on her daughter with such love. If Cora had born _his_ child, as they had agreed, if she hadn't torn out her heart, maybe their child would have been enough, as well. Maybe they could have been happy together.

But the fact remained that he had loved both of them, and that he had killed both of them. What did this mean for Belle and Paige? True, he didn't love Paige the same way as the other three, but she was very precious to him. He comforted himself with the thought that Belle and Paige were both stronger than Milah and Cora, in so many ways. Milah had been as much a coward as he himself was. She hadn't the courage to stand up to him and tell him what she truly thought, where Belle and Paige had certainly done so, more than once. It was all the more impressive that they both had done it long after he became the Dark One. Cora was ruled by her ambitions, and refused to let her emotions get in the way, but Belle and Paige weren't like that. They valued their emotions, and perhaps one could say that they weren't as driven as Cora, but one could also say that they were kinder, gentler, not as ruthless and selfish.

He worked mechanically, wondering if it might be for the best that Belle didn't know who he was. If he was no longer a part of her life, maybe he wouldn't kill her eventually. But then again, Milah and Cora had both left him years before he killed them, so perhaps that was no answer. He just wanted to keep Belle safe, but he was afraid. Afraid of himself.

* * *

><p>Paige woke, confused. She seemed to be in the alley beside Gold's shop, but why? After a moment, it hit her with a jolt. Mr. Gold! He was not only dying, but Cora was attacking! She stood, and took a few steps. At first, she felt slightly dizzy, but it passed quickly, so she rushed toward the front of the shop.<p>

As she arrived there, she saw Emma and a strange man rush toward the shop from the other side. They were at the door well before she was, and they were in such a hurry that she wasn't sure even the giant from a few days ago would have distracted them.

Flinging open the door, Emma cried, "Gold?" It was clearly a question, but then she paused, a relieved look on her face. Paige felt a knot in her stomach loosen. He must be okay, for Emma to react that way.

She knew for sure when the man beside Emma cried, "Papa!" in a glad voice.

Paige drew a nearly silent gasp. Papa? Then he must be Gold's son! Baelfire! She felt a surge of happiness. Not only was Mr. Gold okay, but he had found his son, as he'd set out to do! But there was also a sense of unease. Would she be expected to meet this man? After all, her unborn daughter would be his half-sister. What if he, like Belle, disapproved of what she and Gold had done? What if he couldn't accept this girl? But also, she admitted to herself, what if Gold was no longer so interested in his own daughter, just because his long-lost son had returned to him? What if Gold let Belle and Baelfire insist that he no longer be a part of Paige's life?

She tried to push her doubts away. He was alive, and that was all that mattered for now. Peering into the window, she eased closer until she could actually see him, embracing his son gladly. She didn't know why Emma and Baelfire hadn't been here, but Cora was a very powerful sorceress, so perhaps she'd had something to do with it. After watching for a long moment, Paige turned and headed back to Fawn and Noah's house.

* * *

><p>Inside, Gold smiled. It was only partly forced – after all, he had found Bae. It certainly hadn't happened as he'd expected, but it seemed he and his son were well on the way to a reconciliation.<p>

Bae and Emma started talking at the same time, asking how he had been saved, and what had happened to Cora. They never saw Paige peering into the window before walking away, her face both relieved and pensive at the same time. And not one of them noticed that an old mantle clock, perched on a shelf at nearly eye-level, began to tick again, the first time it had done so in Storybrooke.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "The Miller's Daughter."

The music box that Cassie decides to give to Paige for her baby shower is inspired by the movie "Pan's Labyrinth." One of the characters offers to sing a lullaby to the young girl in the movie, but she cannot remember the words, so she hums the tune. I find it to be both haunting and lovely, and if you go on Youtube and look up "Pan's Labyrinth lullaby music box," you can find a music-box version of the song. For those not familiar with the movie, just leave off the words "music box" in the search window, and you should easily find the song from the original movie soundtrack. Now, the "Pan" in this refers to a faun, but it doesn't look like the fauns many people associate with Greco-Roman mythology. (A better translation of the original title would be either "The Faun's Labyrinth" or "The Labyrinth of the Faun." And just as an additional note, this movie is entirely in Spanish, so unless you are fluent, you would need to watch it with English subtitles.) The Faun in the movie has horns that are, intentionally, as I understand it, evocative of fallopian tubes, which is why the horns carved into the front of Cassie's music box look the same. **I do not own any rights to the movie "Pan's Labyrinth," nor am I in any way affiliated with the creator, producer, or studio.** As happens fairly often, I am simply inspired and wished to give homage to a movie I enjoy.

The masquerade dream that Rumpelstiltskin prepares for Eliza is somewhat loosely based on the movie "Labyrinth," as is the method by which Rumpelstiltskin connects their minds. In the movie, Jareth (played by David Bowie) has a peach given to Sarah, and then sends glass-seeming balls out as large bubbles to capture her in a bizarre masquerade, where she has forgotten all about her quest to rescue her baby brother. The masquerade itself includes some suggestive material, including a shot of a woman laughing and suggestively fondling the exaggerated nose of a man's mask. Eliza's costume, Mornings of Gold, is inspired by a line from the song David Bowie sings during the masquerade ("As the World Falls Down").

In an early transcript for the movie, the revelers are described as being somewhat provocative, just by the way they are dressed, leaving Sarah as the epitome of innocence among them. In this transcript, Sarah at one point finds her way into a room where several men and women are engaging in some sort of activity that Sarah cannot discern, and a woman comes over, winks at Sarah, and closes the door. So the dream in my story is inspired by both the actual movie itself, and by the early transcript. For anyone interested in reading that transcript, I will put a link to it in my profile. **I also do not own any rights to "Labyrinth," and am not affiliated with it in any way, shape, or form.** Again, I am merely inspired by it.

I mentioned the creature known as the aswang because I saw it on an episode of the NBC show "Grimm," **to which I do not own any rights, nor am I connected to the show or its producers in any way!**

There is a link in my profile to the very mobile that inspired Marsha's gift!

Hope you enjoyed, and PLEASE review!


	38. S2 Ch17 - The Worn Out Dancing Shoes

As always, I do not own any rights to ABC's plots, characters, etc.

And just to let everyone know, I have deleted the original Chapter 1 (which was only a Disclaimer/Theories page) and streamlined that information for the beginning of what was previously Chapter 2, but the first chapter of actual story content. I did this before I posted Chapter 2.16, entitled "Perspective." Because of this, those of you who have elected to be notified when a new chapter is posted (and thank you so much to those who have!) will have received 2 separate e-mails stating that "Chapter 37" is now available. When originally posted, Chapter 2.15 ("Greatness") was the 37th chapter; however, removing the original Chapter 1 made my Chapter 2.15 into the 36th chapter, so Chapter 2.16 is now the true 37th chapter. So if you saw that you received two different e-mails for the same chapter, and felt that this was an error, or a removing-and-reposting situation on my part, you may have missed a chapter! Since Chapter 2.15 contains the planning of an impromptu baby shower for Paige, I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to say that we see the shower in Chapter 2.16, so if you have not read about the actual baby shower itself, please go back one chapter before you read this one!

Well, I hope I haven't confused you too much. Now, on with the chapter! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, an ifrit is exiled with his wife. Upon his exile, they renamed him Merikh. He wishes to experiment on humans, and the other djinn do not approve. However, his wife Lamia arranges for humans to found a kingdom in the ruins near the cavern the two ifrits now reside in. These humans are malcontents from Rolph's kingdom, whom she convinced to leave after Rolph had betrayed not only his first wife, but his oldest son. It seems that it was her whispers in his ear that convinced Rolph that the elder twin was not as fit to rule as the younger twin. The humans found their own kingdom, and Merikh begins to prey on their fledgling royal family.

On his wife's advice, Merikh allows the next generation to be assured before he performs his experiments, which are all failures. He keeps hoping that future generations of this new royalty will prove stronger and better suited to his attempts to combine human and djinn. Finally, he envisions a new experiment involving the possession of a human by a djinn, hoping that this will enable the creation of a half-breed child. In order to attempt this, he links his wife to the current queen, and every time the human woman bears a child, so does Lamia. The queen has all girls, and Lamia bears only sons. During the queen's final birth, twin girls, she dies. Lamia has no difficulty with her own birth of twin boys, but Merikh kills her for his experiment, intending to use her essence to create a wine-like drink that will make it easier for his sons to possess the human girls. As Lamia dies, she realizes that she has created this monster in her husband, and is proud of it.

Merikh sends his oldest son to begin the process on Genevieve, the oldest of the twelve princesses. Her next-oldest sister, Louise, is also given the wine and taken dancing in the Underground…

~In Storybrooke, Paige fears the worst. She has not seen Mike since the night when Archie was supposedly killed, but since Archie is still alive, someone else must have been buried in his place. Paige goes to the convent to speak to Mother Superior, whom she recognizes as the Blue Fairy in the world that was, and finds out that there may be a way to discover who was truly killed.

To try to distract her from her fears, her friends organize a last-minute baby shower, which turns out very well, indeed – until Paige receives a call from Mr. Gold, who says he is dying. He apologizes for not being more considerate of her love for her prince, but tells her that he cherishes their friendship. Paige leaves the baby shower without telling anyone and goes to the pawn shop, where she discovers Cora attempting to break through the protection spell on the door to the back room. She hurries into the alley beside the shop and uses what little magic she has to try to slow Cora down, but when the protective barrier goes down, Paige collapses, too. She seems okay when she wakes up, though she is a little dizzy at first, and is relieved to find Gold alive and well, but before she can reach the door, Emma and a stranger rush in, also glad to see him alive. Since the strange man calls Gold "Papa," Paige decides she shouldn't interfere with their reunion. Inside the pawnshop, no one notices that a seemingly-defunct mantle clock starts ticking again…

* * *

><p>Thirteen-year-old Genevieve strove to keep herself from fidgeting restlessly. Her mother had died giving birth to her twin sisters just a few months ago. The only thing that kept her from breaking down in tears was the thought of her secret. The very night her mother had died, a boy appeared in her room. He was mature for his age, and his appearance was pleasing, and he took her dancing. He had as many brothers as Genevieve had sisters, and when Louise had woken that night, Anyanak summoned his next-oldest brother to dance with her. The two boys didn't come every night, but when she went into what Anyanak called the Underground, she found that the wine, the dancing, and even the company, seemed to lessen her pain.<p>

She didn't want to stand here in her father's audience chamber, waiting for silly grown-up things to happen. Who cared if a seer was going to tell their future? This seer must have been very important, though, for all twelve princesses had been thoroughly scrubbed and dressed in their very best, even the twins. Genevieve's head still felt a little sore from being combed, and none too gently, by a maid who seemed to feel that she had not been given enough time to get ten princesses ready. One of the nurses had prepared the two babies. Genevieve thought that the maid who had combed her hair should not have complained so much. She and Louise and Christelle, and even Renee, had helped her get the younger girls ready.

Little Juliana, only two, didn't seem to understand that her mother would never be coming back. The girl had only just started sleeping in the same room as her older sisters when the queen gave birth, and she didn't always sleep through the night, except when Anyanak and his brother Abbadon came for Genevieve and Louise. The boys used some kind of magic charm to keep the younger girls asleep, which worried Genevieve. The boys might grow weary of having to expend the effort to cast the charm, and stop coming for the two oldest girls. That was the problem, Genevieve thought, with having so many sisters in such a tiny castle. Fortunately, their bedchamber was large enough for all twelve girls, although the twins would remain in the nursery for at least two years, but the dressing room was cramped, and already they had to take turns at the mirrors.

As Juliana mumbled a nonsense song to herself, Genevieve let her shoulders slump and shifted her feet. Couldn't they have waited to assemble _after_ the seer arrived? The seer could have been shown to a guest room to wash up, and perhaps change clothes if she wished, while the girls assembled. But the seer hadn't even arrived yet. Or had she? A soldier rushed in and spoke softly to the king. Genevieve could sense the sudden anticipation that came over her father and his courtiers.

But it was several minutes later that the seer was finally shown in. She was dressed very rustically, and her long hair did not look as neatly combed as Genevieve knew her own was. And all that combing and washing and dressing had been pointless, anyway, for the seer was blind. There were strange scars on her face, as if her eyes had been cut out of their sockets. Yet somehow, she walked straight up to the king's throne. She held her hands oddly. Her arms were at her sides, but her wrists were turned out so that her palms faced forward. It looked rather uncomfortable, and almost exotic, especially coupled with the rather stately, elegant way that she moved.

"My daughters," he began, but the seer interrupted.

Her voice was almost… well, breathy was the only word that came into Genevieve's mind. The seer's words almost seemed to echo. "You wish to know what their future will be. Your wife is gone, and you have no sons to follow you on the throne." She spoke as if she already knew, and Genevieve supposed she did.

The red-headed seer held her hands out toward the large cradle that had been built to hold both twins at once. Then she moved her hands in a strange, slightly jerky way, as if fending people off from several directions. But Genevieve realized that the seer's eyes had been placed into her palms! The princess swallowed hard, wondering if it had hurt. And she knew that the seer was looking all around the throne room, but somehow those frightening eyes were seeing things that hadn't happened yet. She felt sick when one of those eyes looked right at her.

The seer's expression did not change as she said, "Your daughters will destroy everything your ancestors have built here, but they will not be at fault for it." Then, without turning her head, she pointed straight at Genevieve. "That one will have to make many painful sacrifices to try to save this kingdom, but if she finds love, she may yet survive. For the others, there is little hope." One of her palms turned toward the twins again. "These two – their future is uncertain. There are too many variables to see _their_ path. I am sorry."

Genevieve could tell her father was upset, but was he horrified by such a bleak prophecy, or angry at the seer for telling him? She vowed right then and there that she never again wanted to know what her future was supposed to be. It was too much of a burden.

The seer was shown out, perhaps with less politeness than she had been shown on her way in, and the king swept out of the room.

Outside, the red-headed seer wasted no time in making for the woods. She knew that she was close to ridding herself of this burden. Rumpelstiltskin would take it from her, and perhaps he would find it easier to bear. She had never asked for this so-called gift, but she knew that _he_ would.

* * *

><p><em>Thirteen years later<em>

Aiden, a former soldier, shambled down a country road. He had served his king loyally until he was fifty years old, when he was told that the army no longer needed him. They gave him something they called a pension, which turned out to be one-time sum of money, and said he was free to go his own way. But he had nowhere to go – he was an only child, and his parents had died some years back. So for eight years he had wandered the kingdom, trying to see everything. Now, he was fairly certain he had. But the money he was given for his pension had run out, and he didn't know what he was going to do.

He looked up and noticed a sign posted to a tree. It was a proclamation from the king. The princesses, it seemed, disappeared every night and danced their shoes to pieces. They would not tell the king where they went or how they got there, and the king feared they were under some enchantment. The first man who could discover these things would be permitted to marry the princess of his choice and would inherit the kingdom one day.

Aside from the lure of becoming the king, Aiden didn't like the thought of the princesses in danger. He remembered the time when he had been assigned to a royal excursion into the vast forest surrounding their kingdom. It was for pleasure – the king did some hunting, and took his oldest three daughters on hikes to see waterfalls and caves. The rest of the girls had all been left at home, being considered too young for such a long trip. Since Aiden wasn't part of the Royal Guard, he hadn't gotten very close to the king or his daughters, but when a strange creature straight out of legend attacked, killing two of the Guard before they finally stopped it, he had been among the men sent to follow its tracks and make sure there weren't any more of the creatures nearby.

No one had believed that Wolfs were real anymore, but now they knew better. Fortunately, there were no signs of other Wolfs, so the general consensus was that the beast they had killed must have been an outcast from its pack. Regular patrols were set up to watch for any more such outcasts.

Aiden clearly remembered how terrified the girls were. He had seen that the oldest princess, whose name he had forgotten, was trying to be brave for her sisters, but he had been just close enough to tell that she was trying to watch every direction at once, her eyes wide with her fear. Her two sisters' faces were buried against her chest. Aside from that, he had seen little more than glimpses of the princesses, usually only from a distance during banquets, ceremonies, or tournaments.

But the next line of the notice stated that any man who watched over the princesses for three nights without finding even the smallest hint would be put to death. "Well," Aiden murmured to himself, "I suppose being a king is not all it's cracked up to be. Besides, even the oldest girl is too young for me, anyway."

"And what if one of those princesses is your true love, dearie?" An old beggar woman, her shoulders bowed with age, stood slowly and carefully from her rest against a nearby tree. Aiden jumped, startled. He hadn't noticed her there before, but he _had_ been lost in thought before the posted sign caught his attention.

"But they're all so much younger than me. I couldn't ask a good woman to tie herself to a man old enough to be her father."

The old woman let out a cackle. "What makes you think those princesses are good women, sir?" she asked, smirking.

Aiden gave a small smile. "If one of them should turn out to be my one true love, then she _must_ be a good woman." His voice was soft, but very certain.

"As you say, sir, as you say," the old woman said, but not as if she believed him. "But if one of them _is_ your one true love, you'd only be hurting her by abandoning her to a life of loneliness, then, wouldn't you?" she added shrewdly.

Aiden blinked. He hadn't thought of it that way. Then he asked, "But what if _none_ of them is my one true love? After all, I must be close to their father's age."

"Age matters not, dearie," the beggar woman said. "If your true love was closer to your own age, don't you think you would have found her by now?" Without waiting for his reply, she went on. "But if you can spare me a warmer cloak, I'll tell you how to find out where the princesses go at night."

"If you know that, why not tell the king yourself?" Aiden was beginning to be a little suspicious of this woman.

"The king would never believe it without proof, dearie," the old woman said. "And I'm too old to go and get it."

Aiden had to admit that she was probably right about that. "Still, why help me?"

She cackled. "I'll help anyone who can give me a warmer cloak," she said. The cloak that was folded over her arm did look rather thin. It wasn't that it was threadbare, surprisingly enough, but it was made from a thin fabric. It was probably meant for late spring and early autumn. It had been a chilly season so far, and with winter right around the corner, it would only get colder. Aiden's good coat had kept him warm enough so far, but he hesitated over giving up his cloak. The old woman spoke again, her voice piteous. "Please, good sir," she said, "my old bones are already aching in this chill."

He sighed. If she spoke true, he wouldn't need to worry about a new cloak; he would be heir to the throne. And even if she was lying, he didn't like to think that someone might freeze to death because he did nothing to prevent it. "Alright," he said. He refrained from adding that his bones weren't _that_ much younger than hers. He dug into his rucksack and pulled out a hooded red cloak. He blushed a little at the ostentatious color. "My, er, mother made that for me," he explained. "Just before I left to join the king's army. Red, you know, is the army's color, so she thought… well, anyway, it has to be warmer than the one you've got." He had taken good care of it, and had actually only worn it a few times. Mostly he had been too embarrassed to go around in a bright red cloak like that, and besides, the army had provided all the garments their soldiers needed, including sturdy winter cloaks. His mother's gift had spent most of its time packed in a trunk with cedar chips and herb sachets to keep away the insects.

The old woman reached eagerly for the red cloak. She smiled, and he thought she looked just a little too self-satisfied, but it was too late to change his mind now. When she held it up to inspect it, he felt a little lost. Even though he had rarely worn it, he'd had that cloak since he was a very young man – still a boy, really, at only sixteen. And as he had told the old woman, it had been a gift from his mother.

But he was startled out of his thoughts when the old woman handed over her own thin cloak. "This will keep you from being seen," she said. "And before you can ask, 'tis not much good to go unseen when you're too old to move spryly." Her mouth twisted in a wry grin, and Aiden could only assume that it was because she didn't like admitting that she was old. "A person may not _see_ you while you wear this cloak, but he can still hear you, or feel you if he bumps into you." Aiden blinked, but the old woman wasn't done. "You will be given a bed in an antechamber of the royal suite where the princesses sleep. Do not drink the wine they give you, but make sure they _believe_ you have. Pretend to sleep, and once the girls are prepared to leave, slip on the cloak and follow them. But be sure to return before them, and let on that you are still deep asleep when they reappear. In this way, you can discover where those silly girls go every night."

"Wait," Aiden said. "An _invisibility_ cloak? Can't you sell this for a much greater profit than a mere cloak?"

"Oh, aye," the old woman said, sounding almost derisive. "But then people would wonder where an old beggar woman had got such a thing, and besides, whoever bought it would likely think to slit an old woman's throat so he could have his money back, and a magic cloak besides. No, this is truly the best way. You need to save the poor little princesses, and I need this red cloak of yours. We both benefit in ways that cannot be stolen back by deceit and murder, dearie."

Aiden eyed her doubtfully. It was clear to him that he could easily kill her to get his cloak back if he was that sort of person, but if the old woman failed to see that, it wasn't his business. He was raised to be respectful of his elders, so he simply bowed his head politely to the woman, saying, "Well, let us both be on our way, then, knowing that we have each done the other a good turn."

"Indeed," the old woman said, turning and shambling down the road in the opposite direction as Aiden.

But perhaps she was not as naïve as he had thought, for she kept turning back to watch him as he walked out of sight. He pretended not to notice her seeming concern and headed for the small castle he hadn't seen in eight years.

As soon as the former soldier was out of sight, a reddish-purple mist swept over the old beggar woman. When it was gone, it left Rumpelstiltskin standing there in the road, holding the bright red cloak and smirking. With a delighted giggle and an odd yet elegant wave of his hand, another ripple of the magical mist swept over the Dark One, and he was gone.

* * *

><p>Paige sat with her arms crossed and a fed-up look on her face. When she had come back to Fawn and Noah's last night, most of the guests had left. Ruby and Granny were still there, which meant Henry was, too. Vicki hadn't left yet, either, and the three women were helping Fawn clean up.<p>

Paige had asked Ruby why she didn't tell her about what happened to Mr. Gold, and the only response she got was that Ruby was trying _not_ to add to Paige's worries. Henry had anxiously chimed in that they were going to tell Paige everything once it was all sorted out, but since there was nothing she could do, they didn't want to upset her. Paige was still mad at Ruby, but she let the matter drop.

While Paige had been gone, Emma had called Ruby to let her know that everything was okay and Cora was dead, so Ruby left shortly after Paige's return to take Henry home. Paige had been relieved to hear that the sorceress would no longer be out to kill Gold.

But now, the next morning, Vicki's husband had come over to check on Paige. "That was stupid, running off like that," he said bluntly. "No one knew where you went; you could have been hurt." He listened to the stethoscope he was pressing to her stomach.

**I had my cell phone,** Paige pointed out sourly. **If people were **_**that**_** worried, they could have texted.**

Dr. Solano moved his stethoscope higher on her belly and asked, "So what happened?"

**Nothing,** Paige signed, her lips pressed together in an angry line. **I went to the pawnshop and saw a strange woman in there trying to break through a barrier on the door to the back room, and I knew it must be Cora. I wanted to help, but I didn't know how, so I just… paced in the alley, and cried, because I was afraid for him, and when I came out again, Emma and some man were rushing in and he was there in the front room, and he was okay, but the man with Emma was his son, and they seemed really happy to see each other, so I just came back here. At least I knew he was safe.** Part of her sullenness was to disguise the fact that she was lying. She didn't want to admit to being knocked out because she was afraid she'd be put on bed rest for the next two months.

"Well," Solano said, "everything seems fine from here. Have you had any spotting since the accident?"

Paige shook her head and signed, **No.** It was true, and she supposed she was lucky after what had happened the night before.

"Well, please just try to be careful, and if you notice any unusual changes, however small, text me immediately, okay?" Solano fixed Paige with a stern look.

**I will,** she promised, trying to ignore the guilty feelings.

Dr. Solano stood. "Well, I have patients to see, so I should get going," he said.

"Before you go, Braden," Fawn spoke up, "Will was wondering if he could take Paige out to see his fort." The boy was over at the Solanos' house, taking a few leftover cupcakes to his cousin Seth.

Solano frowned thoughtfully. "It's only a quarter of a mile, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Fawn replied.

"Fairly smooth, even path? No rough terrain she might stumble on?"

"Yes, quite smooth," said Fawn. "It's an easy walk."

After a moment, Solano said, "As long as she takes it slow and careful, with a good rest before she makes the trip back, then it should be fine." He smiled at Paige and Fawn and turned to go, then thought of something else he wanted to say to Paige. "By the way, young lady, at your next appointment, we need to discuss the birth. You can't do natural birth for obvious reasons, and Dr. Whale tells me that an epidural is out of the question because of the scar tissue on your spinal cord." He frowned slightly. "The only other thing I can come up with is a C-section."

**Oh, **_**hell**_** no,** Paige signed. **I will not let you **_**cut**_** her out of me.** She stood up, looking like she was preparing for a fight. **I can give birth without making too much noise.**

Solano shook his head. "People say that, but I've never been able to find a woman who actually managed it. I'm not sure it's really possible, Paige. I'm sorry."

No one had seen Dr. Horne come in, so it startled them all when he spoke, even though his voice was soft. "I have been seeing it done before my very own eyes, Doctor Solano," Horne said. "Eliza's own grandmother did bear her younger son Owen without the making of a single cry of pain. She was making only a few small grunts of effort, which would most assuredly be falling within the parameters of Paige's agreement with the Dark One."

Blinking, Solano couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice as he asked, "How did she manage that?"

Horne gave a small, almost wistful smile. "Pure determination and spirit, which qualities Paige is possessing in spades." He met Paige's eyes, and his smile got a little warmer, but he spoke to Braden, who didn't already know this story. "Queen Hazel was being in grief when her second child was born, for she had lost her husband and oldest son to a tragic accident at the building site for the summer palace. She wished to deny the pain of childbirthing, because she was determined that bearing the only living child of the man she loved should be bringing her naught but joy for the washing away of her sorrow. In short, Doctor, she was simply refusing to acknowledge the painfulness. And she was doing it quite admirably."

"Huh." Solano looked dumbfounded. "Well, I guess… that's something we can discuss in further detail at your next appointment, then, Paige." Fawn saw him out, leaving Paige and Horne alone in the room.

Watching Horne closely, Paige signed, **Why do you get like that whenever you speak of my grandmother? Did… did you love her?**

Horne had known this question would come sooner or later. He was surprised that Owen had never asked it, but Paige was far more empathetic than her father, so perhaps Owen hadn't figured it out yet. "The feelings I was having for your grandmother were not what you are meaning by the word 'love.' I did care for her a very great deal, but she was loving only her husband. Had she been seeing fit to have feelings for me, or had in some way encouraged my own feelings, I could have _come_ to be loving her. As it was, my devotion to her was being very great. I came out of the woods when she was but a small child, suffering from an illness that no human doctor could cure. With my skills and knowings, I was bringing her back from the brink of death. Most other children would have been dying even under my caring, but Hazel was muchly determined for to keep on living and be following her mother's footsteps as queen. Throughout much of her youth, and into her adulthood, she remained sickly. Her constant cheerfulness despite her struggles captured my affection, and at first I was content to be only her friend and companion. After she was being wedded, I began to see things in a different manner. Although I was wishing only her happiness, it was making me full of sadness to see her so taken with another. And after her true love was gone, she wanted none other, so I was remaining with her to the end, being only as her friend, and have been diligently caring for her family ever since."

**You don't have to, you know,** Paige signed. **I thank you for your devotion to my grandmother, but if you miss your forests, I know she would want you to return to them and be happy. She may not have felt the same as you, but Father often told me how highly she thought of you. You were her best friend, and she always knew she could depend on you for anything. I don't know if she ever told you, but she told my father that she would never have managed without you after her husband died. She thought the world of you, and I know she would have wanted you to be happy.**

With tears in his eyes, Horne said, "She was never telling me that. I saw only the same determination to carry on as she was displaying from her childhood, and to know that she did feel that I was being somehow helpful in that effort…" He paused, too choked up to continue. When he could speak again, he added, "I am being unsure of my welcome in the forests, after so long. And by that I do not only refer to my fellow fauns, but am also meaning that I fear I may no longer be able to be finding happiness in the simple life of a faun in the forest. I have come to love humankind, and it is my belief that I would be missing them greatly should I return to the forests. What I am so poorly attempting to say, sweet girl, is that I am being muchly happy right here with you."

Paige smiled tearfully and hugged him. She hadn't known that he'd had feelings for her grandmother, and at first she had felt a little uncomfortable at the thought. But now, after such a short conversation, it almost felt like she had somehow known it all along. And far from still feeling uncomfortable, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. She blamed the pregnancy hormones for her strange emotions, and for the tear trickling slowly down her cheek.

* * *

><p>"These are my daughters," the king said to Aiden. "If you can discover where they go, and how they get out of their chambers at night, you will become my heir and can marry the princess of your choice." His voice did not hold much hope. He had killed too many men for their failure already, and part of him was beginning to regret that decision. At this rate, he would just keep killing off brave men, and his tiny kingdom could not afford to keep losing these good men.<p>

Aiden bowed to the twelve girls, who ranged in age from twenty-six to thirteen. They simply stared back coldly, though the two youngest girls, twins, seemed to be imitating their sisters more than anything else. He felt almost uncomfortable at the thought of marrying any of these young women, but he could barely keep his eyes off the oldest girl, who was a little on the plump side, but pleasantly so. Her father introduced her as Genevieve, and Aiden didn't hear any of the other girls' names.

With a start, he realized that he was probably a year or so older than the king. He was old enough to be Genevieve's father; how could he think of marrying her? But although his head told him it would be wrong, it was too late to tell his heart. Perhaps the old beggar woman had been right. What else could produce this reaction but true love? He wished he could tell what she felt, though. Her face remained cold and distant throughout.

* * *

><p>After an awkward, mostly-silent supper, the king showed Aiden to the princesses' chambers. "Their door is locked every night," he told the old soldier. "I have the only key, and I carry it on my person at all times. Each morning, when I unlock the door, there are twelve pairs of slippers lined up in the dressing room, ruined from dancing all night. At first, it was only two pair, and only three or four mornings out of the week, but over the past thirteen years, the number has grown, until almost a year ago, and now all twelve girls have started going out every night. I am at my wits end," he confessed, a bit of his true emotion showing through. "I just cannot understand how they're getting out of these chambers, and no one in the kingdom seems to know where they could be dancing the night away like this." After a moment, the king looked away, adding, "It may be some form of enchantment, and if so, it may well be that no one can follow them, or learn their secrets. This may be the beginning of the seer's prophecy coming true," he said softly, more to himself than to Aiden. Then he looked up again. "I wish you luck, soldier. I would hate to have to kill a man who spent his life serving me loyally."<p>

Aiden felt tears sting his eyes, and he blinked so they would not fall. "You… you remember me, sire?"

"Your name escaped me until you introduced yourself, but I never forget a face," the king replied. "You were there when we found out that Wolfs weren't quite so mythical as we had come to believe. I saw in your eyes that you would have died to protect me and mine, and have never forgotten it."

Kneeling at the king's feet, Aiden said, "Thank you, Sire!" He would have said more, but the king gripped his shoulders and drew him to his feet.

"Just find out where they go. Save them for me," the king implored.

"I will do my best," Aiden swore. He wanted to tell the king about the advice he had received, and the cloak that would make him invisible, but somehow he seemed unable to.

* * *

><p>Genevieve watched from her spy hole. "That stupid prophecy," she muttered to herself. "Who cares if this tiny, wretched kingdom really <em>is<em> destroyed? I hate it here, anyway."

Louise came up behind her. "What are you muttering about, sister?"

"Just how much I hate this place," Genevieve said nonchalantly.

Louise smiled. "Just think, Genevieve," she said, her tone almost wheedling. "We'll be going down to visit our princes soon enough. And perhaps Anyanak will ask for your hand tonight, and you can marry him and leave this awful place." When her sister didn't respond, Louise's voice took on a catty tone. "Besides, if you keep sneaking off with him like that, you'll end up marrying him for necessity, anyway."

Without warning, Genevieve spun and slapped her sister, hard. "What Anyanak and I do behind closed doors is none of your business, Louise. Though you and Abbadon don't even look for a door to close, do you? As long as a curtain hides your writhing bodies, you don't care _who_ might hear you moan. Do you know how disgusting that is? The twins have been asking what you're up to. And what am I supposed to tell them?"

Louise tried to pretend she wasn't angry. "As if I cared what you tell them. And at least I can keep my tongue out of Abbadon's throat while I'm dancing with him. You and Anyanak have no discretion _there_, sister."

"Kissing is something that can be done openly, in front of everyone, Louise. But your ridiculous moaning should be kept private, especially the way you whine so. I'd be embarrassed for others to hear that if I were you."

Before Louise could make a scathing reply, the king came back into the room. There was no door to close off the small sitting room where the men who tried to solve the mystery slept, which was just as well. He didn't trust his daughters not to find some way to bar the door and keep the unfortunate man inside. "Please, my daughters, show your guest every kindness you can."

Her face haughty, and still red from her argument with her sister, Genevieve curtsied to her father and said, "Of course, Father." Her voice was frosty, and her father flinched. It made him sad that his daughters didn't seem to care that failure meant death for these poor men.

He swallowed hard, and bade his daughters goodnight before leaving. As always, he locked them in, knowing that it was useless.

* * *

><p>Aiden hid the invisibility cloak under the covers on the bed in the former sitting room. When the eldest princess brought him a glass of wine, he met her at the doorway. "Thank you, Genevieve," he murmured, wishing her answering smile was real. He wondered if she could really be his true love after all, if she was this cold and haughty.<p>

Sniffing the wine, he swirled the goblet as if he were a connoisseur of such things. He turned and walked out of sight as he praised the bouquet of scents, trying to imitate talk he had heard and never really understood, and when he was sure they couldn't see him, he dumped the wine quickly into a potted tree in the corner of the room. Imagine, a tree kept inside! Royalty really _did_ have everything, it seemed.

As he walked back to the doorway, he held the goblet up to his lips as if he had gulped it all down like the country oaf he knew he was. Indeed, the princesses all exchanged glances that seemed to say, what else can one expect of a commoner? Aiden put the goblet back onto the tray and thanked the princesses profusely. Then he sat on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and vest. His soft, worn trousers and loose shirt were all he had to sleep in, anyway, and he knew that the sound of his boots would give him away when it was time to follow the princesses. But he wasn't worried. He had gone barefoot often enough.

After about ten minutes or so, the princesses seemed to watch him expectantly. He was rather taken aback that they used such a strong sleeping draught, but he didn't want to make them suspicious by succumbing too easily. So over the next ten or fifteen minutes, he acted increasingly sleepy. He was reading a book that had been left in the room, perhaps by another man trying to answer the king's questions, and he made sure to let it droop before picking it back up hurriedly and pretending to have lost his spot.

He did so a few times, letting the interval between get shorter each time. Finally, he let himself sprawl across the pillow with the book open on his chest, as if asleep. The princesses gathered by his bed a few minutes later, acting smug.

"As if an old soldier like him can really even read," Genevieve said derisively.

Aiden fought not to react. Of course he could read! His mother had taught him when he was young. But he had to make the princesses believe he was sleeping.

One of the other girls added, "Perhaps he just likes to look at the pictures." Her sisters all laughed jeeringly.

But one of the twins watched the old soldier soberly. "Are you sure he's _really_ asleep?" she said very softly, as if afraid she would wake him.

"Oh, shut up, Melina," Louise said. "Genevieve may be pretentious, but she _does_ know her way around a good sleeping potion."

"But _I'm_ Melina," said the other twin softly.

"Oh, it's not as if it matters which of you is which," Genevieve snapped. "If you'd stop dressing the same all the time, we could tell a difference. Or one of you could cut her hair, then we could _really_ tell you apart."

"Let's just get dressed," one of the other girls said.

Still glaring daggers at each other, Genevieve and Louise followed their sisters to the dressing room. As the oldest, they were among the first to get their turn at the mirrors. But when they got there, the twins had wound up their music box. Their nurse had given it to them when they were still infants, and had soothed them with its lullaby.

"_Will_ you put that horrid thing away?" Genevieve, said, her voice tight. "Those horns on the front are just plain ugly, and weird, and the tune is creepy." She would never admit it, but part of the reason she hated it was because the woman who had given it to them had not been her mother. There was still a part of her that blamed the twins for her mother's death.

Crushed, Melore humbly took the music box into the bedroom, where she hid it in a secret compartment in the wide post of Juliana's bed. Juliana was the youngest aside from the twins, and Melore had known since she was very young that their music box was not safe from Genevieve. Since they knew no one would think of looking in someone else's things, they'd secretly carved a space low on the square post of Juliana's bed. It had taken a very long time, since it was difficult to find moments when they could be alone in the room, but they had managed, and they could keep their music box safe. Melina had followed her out, to make sure no one saw them hiding their treasure. They exchanged a glance. No matter what Genevieve said, they loved that music box dearly.

* * *

><p>Cassiel and her husband had slept in after a night of rousing fun. When the alarm clock went off earlier, Ethan had called his senior advertiser, Sammi Clemens, and asked her to handle any problems for the morning, saying that he would come in after lunch.<p>

Ethan cuddled his wife closer, clearly wanting an encore of last night's activities. At first, Cassie went along with it, but she felt strange this morning. She knew she had felt this way before, but she couldn't put her finger on it. As Ethan nuzzled her neck, she suddenly sat up and gasped.

"Ethan, the clock," she said, her voice loud and worried. "I haven't seen it in this world, but I feel different today, and the clock…" She swallowed, not wanting to finish that thought.

His face went grim. "There's one person who might know where it's at. We'll bring your glaive and my cloak, just in case."

They both dressed quickly and gathered their things. The cloak was hanging in the back of their coat closet, and the glaive was on a wall display in their spare room. The glaive was a long staff with a blade of sorts at one end, but the blade was wide and curved. On the side where the curve went in, there was a piece that curled back toward the staff, like a wave, but it was as wickedly sharp as the rest of the blade. There was a cut-out in the center that followed the same shape as the overall blade, and that inner edge was sharp, as well. The blade was etched with a knotwork pattern, with a dragon's head at the tip, and a leopard's head protruding at the curled piece. A closer examination revealed that the pattern was meant to be the long, sinuous bodies of the two creatures, intertwined in the way of such knotwork art.

* * *

><p>Paige couldn't help but smile a little at Will's happy chattering. His excitement was almost infectious, and Paige began to feel better. She knew she shouldn't have lied to Dr. Solano, though. As she walked beside Will, almost mechanically, she knew she would have to tell her doctor the truth.<p>

"Um, Paige?" Will said suddenly. "Are you sad? You _look_ sad."

After a very brief moment, Paige decided to be honest with the boy. She stopped walking and signed, **Yes, because I did something I shouldn't have. I lied to your Uncle Braden.**

The boy met her eyes very seriously. "Lying is wrong," he stated. He wasn't saying it as an admonishment, but as a simple fact. "But I bet Uncle Bray will forgive you if you say sorry."

Paige's smile widened and lost some of its sadness. **I hope so. But even if he **_**does**_** get mad, I have to tell him anyway.**

"Mama always says honesty's the best… um… I can't 'member, it's a big word," Will said, a touch sheepishly.

**That's okay, Will. I know exactly what you mean. And your mother is right, honesty **_**is**_** always best.**

They started walking again, and soon their path curved around a large tree. "There it is!" shouted Will, pointing and breaking into a run.

Paige watched him fondly, wondering what her own child would be like at his age. She kept walking as he scampered back toward her, and was impressed by the fort he had built.

He had found four slender young trees that made a rough rectangle, and stacked slim branches against them to make four walls. The branches were tied to the supporting trees with twine, and in one wall, Will had taken a thick grapevine branch and curved it in an upside-down u shape, the open side against the ground. On either side, he had used shorter sticks, which were tied to the grapevine, making a doorway.

The walls were built up so that one side of the fort was about a foot taller than Will, but the other side was a little more than two feet over his head, so Paige assumed that the boy must have used a ladder in building this. Paige could see over the top, where more long, skinny branches had been laid across to make a roof, which was slanted like the roof of a lean-to because of the differing heights of the side walls. She couldn't tell if they had been lashed in place like the walls, because the whole roof had been covered over in large hunks of moss that overlapped, from the lower side up so the moss was laid out like shingles.

"Come in, come in," Will cried, leading the way. The door was just big enough for Paige to crawl through.

Inside, there was a small wooden table and two matching chairs that looked like a patio set. On the table was the vase Fawn had lent Will, with flowers in it. Paige couldn't stand up in the fort, but when Will offered her the chair under the higher part of the roof, she found she could sit there without hitting her head.

**This is really nice, Will,** she signed. **Did you make this fort by yourself?**

"Yep," the boy answered proudly. But he immediately added, "Essept that Daddy carried the chairs and table, and bringed me a ladder so I could reach the tops of the walls and the roof."

**Does the roof leak?**

"Well, some," Will admitted. "But 'cuz the roof is all tilted, and the moss I put on it, not too bad. Not too bad, at all."

Paige smiled. That last bit sounded like something he had picked up from grownups, and she wasn't sure if his parents said something like that, or if he'd heard it on television or in a movie, but the satisfied way he said it was adorable.

* * *

><p>It seemed to Aiden that the princesses had taken forever to get themselves ready. In all that time, he had not dared to move, for fear that one of the girls would look in on him to make sure he was asleep. And at least once or twice, he thought he had heard footsteps approach.<p>

He finally managed to let one eye slip open just the tiniest bit, only to see that the princesses were gathered at the end of one of the beds. Genevieve tapped her foot on the floor twice, intoning, "Spirits underneath the floor, open up your secret door." At this, a section of the floor lifted up, but from his angle, Aiden could not see into the opening under the trap door.

Only the twins glanced back before disappearing into the opening, but Aiden had not moved aside from opening his eye that tiny slit, which he knew they would not see from that distance.

As soon as the sound of their chatter became quite faint, Aiden sprang up and pulled the invisibility cloak around himself. If the old woman had lied to him, this was going to be a short, possibly disastrous, trip, but already he knew how the princesses got out of the room at night. The locked double doors were not the only way in and out, as their father believed. He ran over to the opening in the floor and saw a staircase so long he could not see the bottom.

Not having his sword made Aiden feel nervous, but he didn't dare take time to rush back for his belt. Already the princesses were out of sight on the steep, winding stair, and their voices were fading quickly. Barefoot, Aiden hurried after them.

* * *

><p>When he reached the bottom, Aiden noticed that the whole area seemed suffused with a faint, smoky smell – sharp and gritty, but not overly unpleasant. He glanced back at the steps and noticed something strange. The third step from the bottom seemed to glow.<p>

Turning back toward the path at the foot of the steps, he still could not see the princesses, though their voices sounded louder now. He couldn't be too far behind them, but just ahead, the path wended into a wooded area, so he slowed down a bit. The princesses might be closer than he thought.

As he entered the wood, he almost didn't notice that his caution had been well-founded. The princesses were just in sight ahead, but Aiden's attention was caught by the trees themselves. They seemed to be made of silver, and yet they looked like live trees, as well. How could this be possible? For just one moment, Aiden doubted himself. If the princesses had found such a magical place, perhaps it was wrong of the king to try to keep them in the everyday world above.

But as soon as he thought of the king, he remembered the king's eyes. When the king revealed that he remembered Aiden, there had been genuine respect in the man's eyes, and to be respected by a king was an honor, especially a kind, good king. And despite the beautiful, peaceful-seeming surroundings, Aiden was beginning to sense something sinister about this place.

He looked deeper into the wood, where the princesses had pulled ahead enough to be just out of sight again. Even though he knew it was a risk, he felt he needed proof of this place for the king, so he drew one arm out of his cloak to break a twig off of a tree. It cracked with a sound like a gun, and ahead, he could hear the worried voices of the twins. Even though he wanted to hurry, he was careful not to let the cloak fall open as he pulled his hand back in and tucked the silver twig into his pocket.

"Oh, no, he's followed us," cried Melore.

"What will we do?" Melina whimpered.

"Don't be so stupid," Louise said scathingly. Despite Genevieve's dire mutterings that their princes would not like being made to wait, Louise dragged her two youngest sisters back to where they could see the edge of the wood, and beyond it, the bottom of the long staircase. "You see? No one there. It was just an animal that stepped on a branch, so stop acting like such babies!"

"But couldn't he be hiding among the trees?" asked Melina.

The third sister, Christelle, had followed them back along the path. She was only slightly kinder than Louise. "Take a good look at these woods. Not one of the Silver Trees is thick enough for that old soldier to hide behind, and we can see quite far – he could not have gotten so far off the path this quickly. It _must_ have been an animal."

Melore said, "But I don't think there _are_ any animals down here. We've never seen one."

By this time, Louise and Christelle had led the twins back to where their other sisters were impatiently waiting to continue, and Genevieve overheard Melore's comment. "Louise and I have been coming down here since you two were born. We know more about this place than you, and I can tell you that there most assuredly _are_ animals down here. If you don't believe me, just ask your princes. They'll tell you about the magnificent hunts they've gone on in the Precious Forests." With that, she turned on her heel and set a quicker pace than before.

Aiden hurried after them, relieved. When they came back to see if they were being followed, the four princesses had been close enough to touch him. But by the time he started to catch up with them again, they passed out of the silvery wood and into a golden one! Again, the trees seemed to be alive, yet made of gold.

This time, Aiden decided to strip a few leaves from a tree. The twigs clearly made too much noise! But the golden leaves ripped with a rather loud sound, though not as loud as the silver twig had cracked. Still, the twins grew flustered again, and their older sisters were even less patient with them this time. Aiden didn't dare move until the princesses started walking again.

Again, Aiden found himself trying to catch up to the princesses, who were moving even faster now. And once more, just as he started to catch them up, they came into a new section of the forest. In this part, the trees were made of living diamond! These trees were blooming, and Aiden hurriedly plucked a few diamond blossoms, which made the tree chime quite musically. A few of the nearby trees tinkled as well, but not as loudly. Once more, the twins' fears were swiftly and unkindly dismissed.

This time, Aiden didn't worry as much about the noise he might make. As fast as the princesses were hurrying along, they were not likely to hear the slight sounds of his bare feet. Besides, some instinct told him that he could no longer afford to be so far behind the princesses, and he was right. For as they came out of the golden woods, the path ended on a dock in a vast lake. Mist swirled fitfully over the glassy waters, and twelve small boats were tied to the dock. In front of each boat was a young man. These men looked ordinary enough, but something seemed off about them, though Aiden could not figure out just what it was. The princesses didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary; in fact, they greeted these men with glad cries.

Each girl ran to the arms of one of the strange young men. They greeted each other, which was an uncomfortably intimate process for the older girls, making Aiden want to look away. Then the twelve young men helped the princesses into the boats. It happened so suddenly that Aiden almost got left behind, but just at the last minute, he was able to slip onto the boat with Melore and her young man.

The other eleven boats got ahead rather quickly, and the young man said, "I cannot think why the boat feels so heavy today; I am having to row with all my strength and still we are being left behind."

"Oh, it must be nothing more than the heat," Melore said, blushing a little. She wasn't really sure what went on between the older couples, but perhaps Azriel wanted to be alone with her and show her. She was sure _he_ knew exactly what the others were doing when they disappeared, even if she had no idea. "I'm feeling very warm, myself," she added.

But to her disappointment, Azriel simply rowed on over to the palace on the far shore of the lake, where only Melina and Azriel's twin, Azalhu, had waited for them. The others were all inside the palace, sitting down to a feast.

As he watched, Aiden noticed that only the twins actually ate anything. The other girls simply drank more and more of the wine that never seemed to run out. The supposed princes only picked at their food, pouring the girls more wine every time their cups grew too empty.

This whole palace looked shabby and worn down, and he could have almost sworn that parts of it were made like a carefully constructed set for playacting – as long as it _looked_ grand from a distance, it mattered not what sort of cheap material it was made from. Aiden had seen a play, once, but when he had snuck around later to look at the grand chapel portrayed in the play, he had been quite disappointed to find that the intricate carvings had been painted onto a canvas, and rather poorly, too. The set had not looked the least bit shabby when he watched the play, but up close, it wasn't even real wood and stone. This palace reminded him of that.

* * *

><p>The feast had been boring to watch, and the dancing was little better. The older princesses danced much too close to the young men, and Genevieve couldn't seem to stop kissing her partner. It made Aiden feel a little bit sick to watch, so he hovered near her, doing anything he could to make her stop. Every time her prince handed her a glass of wine, he took hold of the cup while she was distracted by her partner's lips, dumping the wine into the potted plants nearby. She never seemed to notice, and the strange young man was only too happy to refill her cup for her.<p>

At first, Aiden had worried that one of the others might see what he was doing. But he quickly realized that the princesses grew more fixated on their partners with each glass of wine, and each young man cared only about keeping his own partner supplied with wine.

Curious about this wine, Aiden decided to try just one sip of it. And suddenly, he saw what the princesses must see. The ballroom was elegant and sumptuous, and the twelve princes were devastatingly attractive, but with kind, gentle faces. They looked at the princesses with love and devotion in their eyes.

By the time Aiden could shake this vision, Genevieve was heading into a nearby hallway with her prince. He followed quickly, but as silently as possible. He was beginning to be quite afraid, now. These so-called princes were clearly up to no good, and who knew what other side effects their wine may have on the girls?

He only just managed to slip into the room before the young man shut the door. Genevieve barely waited, pressing herself against the devious young man. As she peppered his face with kisses, she called him Anyanak. Aiden didn't recognize the name, but it sounded like the kind of name that a djinn would have! He only barely remembered stories of the djinn from his childhood – most people in this tiny kingdom believed the djinn were just another myth. But perhaps, like Wolfs, the djinn were real, too. But what could they want with human girls?

Aiden shook himself out of his reverie, and was shocked to discover that Anyanak had pressed Genevieve against a wall and lifted her skirt, revealing that she wore nothing underneath! As the young man, who might not even be a true young man, fumbled with his pants, Aiden wished he knew a way to stop this. Even if Anyanak were a human, Aiden wouldn't like the idea of Genevieve having sex with him, but if he truly was a djinn, then he must have some devious purpose here.

But suddenly, Genevieve pushed Anyanak away. "Ugh, I think I've had too much wine," she muttered. When he tried to keep going anyway, she added, "Not tonight, Anyanak. I have a headache."

Suddenly, Aiden was glad he had poured out her wine all evening. Perhaps this would break her trance, but she was still bespelled enough that she never even noticed the sheer anger that crossed Anyanak's face at being opposed like this. Aiden saw it, and worried. These young men were probably dangerous. But Anyanak smoothed his features and spoke reassuring words before leading Genevieve back out onto the dance floor.

* * *

><p>When the girls finally left for the night, somewhere in the early hours of the morning, Aiden rode across the lake with Genevieve and Anyanak. The young man seemed a little out of sorts, no doubt still reeling from Genevieve's refusal. He wanted to stay near the princesses and see if Genevieve acted any differently after a night with almost none of the strange wine, but he knew he couldn't.<p>

As the old beggar woman had instructed, he hurried on ahead as soon as the boat landed, although he didn't dare go too fast, for fear the cloak would flap open and reveal his legs and feet. But the princesses were tired from dancing, and some of them from other activities, so he easily got back into their chambers first. He tucked the twig, leaves, and blossoms into the very bottom of his bag, then hid his cloak and laid back down. He didn't worry about trying to duplicate his former pose exactly, knowing that they would believe he had simply shifted in his sleep. Though he generally preferred to treat books with greater respect, he dropped the book onto the floor, as if it had fallen there when he moved.

When the princesses arrived, he heard one of the twins urgently but quietly point out the fallen book. He thought it was Melina who spoke. Louise replied, scathingly and much louder than her sister, that finding the book on the ground proved the soldier had _not_ followed, for she claimed that no one could get out of bed and find something they had dropped in the night without picking it up and putting it aside neatly. Aiden had seen enough of the world, and of other people, to know that this wasn't necessarily true, but he had rather suspected that at least one of the older girls would be reassured to see that the book had simply fallen out of the bed.

For a short while, he heard the princesses murmuring tiredly as they all changed and went to bed, but before they were all finished, Aiden had fallen asleep.

* * *

><p>Gold's eyebrow lifted when he saw who had entered his shop. He was rearranging a display that had been scattered in yesterday's fight.<p>

"Where is the clock?" Cassiel asked, her voice tight with anger.

"Over there, dearie," Gold said dismissively, pointing to the shelf.

Cassie's face went pale. "Ethan," she said, her voice sounding strange.

"I see, love. It's ticking again," her husband replied.

Gold glanced over. He hadn't realized that the clock had started ticking again. For that matter, he was a little surprised that it _could_ start up again in this world, but apparently the ifrits were here in Storybrooke, too. Not that it mattered to him, of course. The ifrits were none of his business.

"But where would they come through, here?" Cassie looked anxiously at her husband, who was lifting the clock down from the shelf.

Ethan glanced at Gold. If the man wanted to, he could tell them where to go to stop the ifrits, but Gold was ignoring them. "Come on, Cassie," Ethan said darkly. "We'll have to figure that out on our own." He wanted to avoid making another deal with the Dark One, if at all possible.

Cassie held the door for Ethan, who was trying his best to keep the clock level. Gold said nothing – he just smirked as the door closed behind them. After all, that clock had technically belonged to them for far longer than it had been in this shop. He could probably charge them some kind of storage fee, but they no longer had anything he was interested in acquiring, so it would be pointless. Besides, in the unlikely event that something came up in the future, he could still work the storage-fee angle, if necessary.

* * *

><p>Not knowing what else to do, Ethan and Cassie took the clock home and put it onto their mantle. Then they stared at it, trying to figure out where to go. Ethan still had the thin cloak draped over one arm, and Cassie was clutching the glaive so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.<p>

Then suddenly, Cassie gasped. "Last night, at the shower! Paige smelled something strange, but no one else noticed! She didn't describe the scent, but maybe the entrance in this world is somewhere near Fawn's house!"

"Let's go," Ethan said grimly.

But Cassie held back. "I could be wrong, Ethan. She might have caught a whiff of something perfectly ordinary."

Cupping his wife's face in his hand, he said, "It might prove to be nothing, my love, but for now, it's the closest thing we have to an actual clue. It can't hurt to check it out."

"You're right," she replied, giving him a small, scared smile.

He hugged her tight for a long moment, knowing that he could never fully understand how hard this was for her. After all, he had never had any siblings, and despite his many years as a soldier, he'd never had to actually kill anyone.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Aiden told the king that he was not yet able to solve the mystery. The heartbroken look that came over the king's face was wrenching, and Aiden almost broke down and told the truth. But just then, the princesses filed quietly into the room, looking tired, and Aiden nerved himself. He wanted to know more about these so-called princes that the girls danced with every night, and if he revealed their secret now, the king would probably find some way to stop them.<p>

The princesses were coldly polite, as they had been before, although Genevieve seemed out of sorts, and was not quite as rude as she had been yesterday. Aiden hoped that meant she was less under the spell of that wretched wine. He was beginning to suspect that it was the wine that made them all act so cold, as if they were heartless. But only time would tell.

* * *

><p>That night, Aiden followed the same routine, only this time, he remembered his sword. Also, he did not pluck any twigs, leaves, or blossoms, since he already had his proof. Once again, he kept Genevieve from drinking much wine, and this time he pocketed one of the strangely shabby, jeweled-seeming goblets, which was far too light to be made of gold, as it appeared to be.<p>

This time, Genevieve did not even let her supposed prince lead her into a secluded room. She claimed another headache, and even said she thought she might be catching some illness, for she had felt weak and achy all day. Anyanak was quite displeased, but kept playing the part of a concerned and caring suitor.

* * *

><p>Aiden decided to follow the princesses for one more night, so another day had gone by with the king disappointed in him again. Tonight, though, Aiden acted like the desperate man he knew the princesses expected him to be. Eschewing his comfortable bed, he dragged a chair into the doorway and sat down fully dressed after secretly pouring out Genevieve's sleeping potion. He had seen a hint of regret in her eyes as she brought him the tray. She truly did seem to be purging herself of the side effects of the wine. This meant that all twelve princesses could be saved, and Aiden knew the king would be pleased.<p>

As on the previous two nights, Aiden pretended he was fighting to stay awake, only to fail in the end. He knew he would have to be much more careful; his boots would make noise on the floors in the palace. But somehow he felt just a little better with them on.

The night proved much the same as the previous two, but this time, Anyanak insisted on taking Genevieve somewhere private. When she said she wasn't in the mood, he barely managed to sound polite as he told her that it wasn't for that. He claimed he needed to talk to her privately, and Aiden could see that Genevieve believed that her prince meant to propose. But now, after three nights with hardly any of the wine, she seemed just a touch unsure that this was what she wanted.

As soon as Anyanak closed the door and turned, Genevieve screamed. She started babbling about a monster, and Aiden noticed that the constant hot smell of this place got worse, and became almost sulfurous. That was when he saw Anyanak's true form. The so-called prince really was a djinn, and not just any djinn – an ifrit! That explained the hot smell, but he seemed smaller than most ifrits were by Aiden's grandmother's description. Aside from Anyanak's height, though, he was the very image of those tales. His skin was yellow, his hair reddish-orange, and his leathery, bat-like wings were brown. There was a backward bend to his legs, which resembled an antelope's hind legs, but Anyanak's were more muscular. Instead of feet, he had cloven hooves.

The ifrit lunged for Genevieve, and Aiden reacted without thinking. He leaped forward and grabbed her arm, flinging open the door. He knew his sword would do no good here, so he fled, calling out to the other princesses. They were all startled, and began to run as their own princes revealed their true forms, but because of the effects of the wine, the older girls all let themselves be calmed by the ifrits. Only the twins followed Genevieve and the disembodied voice out of the palace.

Aiden's sudden fear was quickly relieved when he discovered that the lake had been a mere illusion. The reality was a small, splashing brook that steamed slightly, and they easily jumped it. But Aiden knew that the ifrits would catch them up easily. The princesses were tired from dancing, and their dresses and petticoats were not light. Also, they were not used to running.

A glance back showed not three, but four ifrits after them – and one was the size Aiden's grandmother had described! Aiden noticed that the so-called palace was only a wide cavern with gauzy curtains that were now fluttering in the wind as the four ifrits pumped their wings and took off. Through the curtains, Aiden could see the cheap set-pieces the ifrits had used to help create the illusion of a beautiful palace.

There was a certain deadly grace in the way the creatures flew. The larger one and Anyanak flew ahead, while the two who had been dancing with the twins came up from behind. As Aiden and the princesses raced through the woods, their pursuers had to land or risk injuring their wings. It was only a small comfort, though, with two ifrits ahead, as well.

The forest was no longer a magical place. It was dank, and every tree was covered with slimy fungus-like growths. Aiden, running on instinct, pulled the three girls off the path. There was very little undergrowth, so their way was only a little rougher than the path. Aiden was hoping to come at the steps from an unexpected angle, and it seemed to work. He could hear, on the path, the two pursuing ifrits meet up with the two that had flown ahead.

Somehow, they reached the steps before the ifrits. Shouting for the girls to take the cloak, Aiden drew his sword. He knew he was going to die here. He never saw the two smallest ifrits sneak around to grab hold of the twins' ankles before Genevieve could cover all three with the cloak.

Aiden backed up, and felt the now-invisible eldest princess behind him. "Just go," he said softly, not wanting the ifrits to know she was still there. "Run."

She started to turn, and noticed the glowing step. "That step," she said, "the one you're standing on – it's glowing! It's never done that before!"

Looking down, Aiden saw no sign of the glow. Somehow, wearing the cloak must enable a person to see it. So what made the step glow? Not fully understanding why, Aiden stepped up onto the fourth step and swung his sword at that glowing stair. It broke with a sound like a cannon, and the huge ifrit roared in pain before dropping to the ground, dead. Aiden suddenly heard his grandmother's voice, explaining that an ifrit could only be killed if a certain part of him was harmed, and he could take that one vulnerable part and hide it. The ifrit's life, as they called it, could take on any form and be hidden most anywhere. The third step from the bottom must have been where the big ifrit had hidden his life.

"Father!" Anyanak cried. He lifted his face to glare daggers at Aiden, but just then, the ceiling began to fall in. Somehow, the big ifrit had been holding this place together, either through his will, or perhaps by virtue of hiding his life here, but now that he was dead, this room could no longer stand. Genevieve's hand and arm came out of nowhere, and Aiden grabbed it. They rushed up the stairs, hoping that they would be able to reach the top before the whole stairway collapsed.

* * *

><p>Paige crawled back through the small doorway. The moment she stood up, she felt a constant thump, thump, along one side of her stomach. Massaging the area gently, hoping to stop the tiny fist or foot, she almost didn't notice the strange smell. It was the same one she had noticed at the baby shower the night before, hot and dry, and just a little unpleasant, but not overwhelmingly so. She hoped nothing was on fire, although by now, someone else would have noticed the smell if that were the case.<p>

Will took her hand and chatted away as they started down the path back to Fawn and Noah's house. Suddenly, the boy froze. Before he could say anything, two girls, who looked like twins, stepped out onto the path in front of Paige and Will.

But there was something strange and almost alien about the two girls. They looked like they were sixteen or seventeen, and they reminded Paige of someone, but she couldn't figure out who. They stared curiously at Paige and Will.

They were dressed in shades of red, but the top layer was all gauzy, and billowed at the slightest movement. "We seek Genevieve," one of them said. Her voice had an odd quality to it, as if it were overlaid by a deeper, more masculine voice, and Paige suddenly realized that both girls' hair seemed to be stirring in a breeze, even though the air was still in the woods. Not only that, but a great heat emanated from them, and it scared Paige.

"Um, we don't know nobody like that," Will said, clearly trying to act brave.

Acting on instinct, Paige pushed Will behind her. She half turned to sign, **Run! Get help!**

One of the twins made as if to go around Paige and chase Will, but Paige threw herself in between again. Both girls looked at Paige, with a hint of irritation on their faces. One of them grabbed Paige's arm and dragged her forward. It took everything Paige had not to cry out; it felt like her arm was being yanked out of its socket! And where the girl's hand was wrapped around Paige's arm like an iron vise, it was too hot, as if the girl's hand were burning Paige.

Suddenly, the other girl cocked her head and stared at Paige's stomach, but before she could say anything, her sister flung Paige across the path. Paige slammed into a tree, hitting her head hard. When she landed heavily on the ground, she did not move.

"Brother," said the girl who had stared at Paige's stomach. "This one is with child."

The two girls locked eyes, sharing an odd glance. It almost looked as if they regretted hurting Paige. They turned as one and walked over to where Paige lay, leaving a path of wilted, slightly scorched foliage behind.

Kneeling in front of the unconscious mother-to-be, the twins looked at her stomach, then at each other, clearly startled. Without a word, they each put a hand to Paige's stomach. A strange ripple swept over them, and they collapsed. The vegetation around them ceased to wither and smolder.

* * *

><p>Fawn had been feeling nervous for a little while now, and she hovered along the back of the house, where she could watch for Paige and Will to return. She wasn't sure why she felt on edge, because nothing was actually wrong in the forest, but there was something… strange. Just when she decided to walk out to meet Paige and Will, the doorbell rang.<p>

It was Cassie, who had been at the shower last night, and she introduced her husband. She claimed that there was in ifrit somewhere in Storybrooke, or maybe two, and she and her husband could defeat him. Fawn remembered Paige mentioning an odd smell, and with something unusual in the forest, she felt her stomach clench. The three of them raced out the back door and down the path.

Fawn stopped when they met Will, who sobbed about two girls who had scared him and Paige, but he was nearly incoherent. Even though she wanted to go on, to find Paige, Fawn knew she had to take care of her son. Cassie promised that she would do whatever she could.

* * *

><p>At the graveyard, Mother Superior looked up when she felt a flash of magic. It was light magic, though, so she didn't let it worry her too much, although there had been a strange, hot feeling to the air before that sudden flash of magic.<p>

Another nun was kneeling on the ground, pressing one hand to the gravestone that incorrectly bore Doctor Hopper's name. She held the other hand over a piece of paper. Both hands were coated in a thin layer of fairy dust. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated, and soon, an image began to form on the paper. It was as clear as a very skilled drawing, perhaps even as clear as this world's photographs.

When the other nun handed the paper to Mother Superior, she said, "Thank you so much for your help." She smiled and turned away to study the picture. What she saw made her gasp. "Oh, no," she breathed. "Oh, poor Paige!"

* * *

><p>Aiden and Genevieve were sprawled on top of the trap door, still gasping for breath. At fifty years old, Aiden had never dreamed that he could run all the way up a flight of stairs like that, though he knew that fear had given him more than enough motivation.<p>

Suddenly, he looked over at the princess. "Where are the twins?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice sounding hollow. She was in shock. "They were there when you tossed me the cloak, but by the time I put it on, they were gone. I guess… I guess the monsters got them." She started to cry softly, and Aiden put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

It took him by surprise when she then flung herself into his arms, weeping against his chest. But he held her tightly, stroking her hair and whispering to her. Later, he never could remember what he said to her in that moment. He just knew that he was trying to console her. It was probably pointless, because she had just lost all eleven of her sisters, but he had to try.

* * *

><p>The next morning, when the king unlocked the door, Aiden knew he would be executed. He had gathered the things he'd brought out of what Genevieve called the Underground, but feared it would not save him. Not that he would blame the king.<p>

Strangely enough, the twig was still silver, the leaves still golden, and the blossoms still diamond. The cup, in daylight, looked almost like a very thick paper, painted gold and treated with wax to be waterproof, with cheap, imitation jewels stuck on. If the forests were made of precious things like gold and diamonds, why were the goblets such cheap things? It made no sense to Aiden or Genevieve.

But although the king was devastated to discover what had happened, he was truly shocked that Aiden expected to die. "Why should I execute you? You have fulfilled the task I set for you."

"But Sire," Aiden said, "I knew where they went after the first night. Had I told you then, you might have stopped the princesses then and there, and they would not have… been lost."

"That is true," the king said gravely. "But you did not know then that they were being entrapped by ifrits. Besides, from the way my Genevieve looks at you, your execution would be the death of her. Maybe not a literal death, but life would no longer have meaning for her. Losing your true love is no small thing, Aiden. At least I had twelve beautiful daughters to live for when I lost my wife. Genevieve would have no one but me, and that will not last forever."

Aiden felt like a horrible person for wanting to point out that a man is not always outlived by his children. Their own situation was proof enough of that. Many people considered it to be against the natural order of things for a child to die before a parent, yet that sort of thing happened far too often. The soldier held his tongue.

"He tried to save us all, Father," Genevieve said. In her grief, she had missed much of the conversation, so she thought her father still needed to be convinced to spare the soldier's life. "The wine they gave us, it made it easier for them to hold us in thrall, and only the twins and I ran away. But the ifrits must have gotten them before Aiden killed the big one, and then the whole room collapsed." She stopped suddenly, not wanting to think about her sisters being crushed under all that rock.

"And for that, he shall be the heir to my throne," the king said, his voice thick with grief and fear. The seer's prophecy did not seem likely to come true, now. If his daughters were all dead, how could they destroy the kingdom? But he suddenly remembered the seer saying that if Genevieve found love, she might survive. And she had, so perhaps his own loss of most of his daughters had been the destruction the seer had meant. After all, a king was the embodiment of his kingdom, and he was certainly feeling devastated right now. So perhaps the prophecy had come true, after all. It just hadn't happened the way he had expected.

* * *

><p><em>Four Years Later<em>

Genevieve still sometimes dreamed of her ifrit prince, and they weren't always unpleasant dreams, although when she woke she was upset by them. But the wine was quite thoroughly out of her system now, and Aiden, who had spent the last four years learning to rule, had proposed at last.

They had gathered all of the nobles to announce the upcoming wedding, and Genevieve could feel Aiden's hand trembling in hers. She wasn't sure if he was nervous or excited. When she looked over at him, his answering smile showed both, and she patted his hand. She was used to this sort of thing, but he still found it hard to believe, sometimes, that he was the heir to the throne.

All the guests had arrived, and messengers were ready to go out into the towns and villages to post the notices, but not until the assembled nobles had heard the news. Suddenly, the door creaked open and a noblewoman, ostentatiously dressed in red silks, stood in the doorway. She was nearly Genevieve's age, but no one seemed to recognize her.

"Did you miss me, Father?" she said sarcastically. Genevieve gasped. The voice was different, and sounded like an odd mix of male and female, but could it be?

"Louise?" Genevieve's voice was too soft to be heard over the sudden murmuring throughout the room.

But the king stood, staring, for a moment. Then he rushed down the center aisle. "Louise!" he cried. "We thought you were dead! Where have you been?"

"Yes," Louise said, in her strange new voice. "Yes, that sister of mine certainly _left_ me for dead, didn't she?" Genevieve recoiled at the venom Louise injected into the word sister. "Where is she? Where is that trollop?"

Taken aback, the king said, "Your sister tried to save you. You should not speak of her like that."

"Oh, really?" said Louise. Her hand struck out like a viper, grabbing her father by his throat. "My sister is the one who let the ifrits in. If not for her, we would all be safe and sound right now, one big, happy family." As she spoke, her voice filled with sarcasm, she squeezed the king's windpipe. But suddenly, her hand burst into flames.

Louise ignored the fact that the flesh on her hand was crackling and burning. She watched as the king caught fire, too, and began to scream in pain. "Oh, shut up, Father," she sneered. With a sudden wrench, she ripped his charred throat out, and he dropped to the ground, where he twitched for one long, ghastly moment before he died.

Genevieve was too horrified to even scream. She wanted to run to her father's side, to try to save him, but Aiden dragged her out of the room through the antechamber used only by the king and his family. As he tried to find a place where they could hide, Genevieve could not stop whimpering for help. She wasn't speaking very loud at all, fearing that Louise would hear her and find them. She knew that Louise would kill her and Aiden both, given the chance.

* * *

><p>Cassie could smell it, now. And it was definitely the scent of ifrits. According to Ethan, the smell was hot, gritty, and usually neutral, although it had turned to sulfur when Anyanak grew angry at being found out. But for her, it had never seemed that way. She could only assume it was because of the wine, but to her, the smell of ifrit was heady and intoxicating. It was warm and dry, spicy, and quite alluring, with hints of smoky sweetness. She had never been to the desert, but she had read about it, and this scent always made her think of the exotic stories she had read, although she doubted that a real desert smelled this good. Even after all this time, that smell still appealed to her, and part of her wanted to go back to that time. She felt like an addict who had kicked the habit, but still craved the thing she had given up.<p>

She had never tried to explain this to her husband. She was afraid he would be hurt to think she still wanted anything to do with Anyanak. So as she breathed in the familiar, intoxicating scent, she kept her face turned away so he wouldn't see.

They were both shocked to find Paige and both of the twins lying unconscious on the ground. Aiden was wearing his cloak, and said, "I can see their lives."

Before he could tell her where, she said, "They're not burning."

"What?" he asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

"The twins, they're not burning, and neither is anything around them. And I don't feel any heat coming from them, either," Cassie said. She was torn. She wanted to believe that her sisters had somehow gotten free of the ifrits, but at the same time, she feared this might be a ruse.

Ethan took off his cloak and moved next to the twins. They were both breathing, and he cautiously reached out and touched one of them. "Her skin feels cool," he said, surprised. He knew that, even if the ifrits had found a way to hide the heat that naturally emanated from them, they would not be able to cool their own skin. That was supposed to be the telling point, according to his grandmother's stories. If someone's skin was always feverishly hot, especially if the person clearly felt fine, that meant the person was really an ifrit in disguise. He wondered, suddenly, why his grandmother had never talked about a real person being _possessed_ by an ifrit.

"Hers, too," he added, checking the other twin. Then he moved to Paige, who lay very still. "I'm not sure she's breathing," he said urgently. "And there's almost no pulse. Run back to Fawn's house, call the ambulance." He looked over at the twins. "Tell them to send three ambulances." He still wasn't quite sure about the twins, and he worried that he might be giving Genevieve false hope here, but he was starting to suspect that the impossible had happened, and that the twins were somehow no longer possessed.

As Cassie ran back down the path, Ethan started CPR on Paige.

* * *

><p>Gold felt the hot, dry presence of the ifrits, and didn't particularly care. If they bothered him, he could take care of them easily enough. But a sudden burst of light magic startled him. The glaive he had given that princess, so long ago, would not produce that effect, but after that surge of magic, the ifrits' presence was gone. He wondered what had happened, but he couldn't leave Mary Margaret's side right now. Much as he hated to admit it, he <em>did<em> owe her for saving his life, but this would cancel out that particular debt.

Mr. Gold looked out the window, as if he could see where the burst of magic had come from. He doubted it was Emma – she was quite inexperienced with using magic, so she probably would not know how to stop the ifrits, and besides, she had other things on her mind just now. That meant it was probably one of those loathsome fairies.

He sighed as he went back to his pacing. He hoped this would be over with soon.

_To Be Continued…_

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Welcome To Storybrooke."

I do not know where Red's cloak came from – the one that prevents her from turning into the wolf. Granny said that she got it from "a sorcerer," but did she mean Rumpelstiltskin? Personally, I'm inclined to think so, but I do not know ABC's intentions, or if we'll ever find out for sure. Because who knows, maybe Granny did _not _get the red cloak from Rumpelstiltskin, but whatever sorcerer she _did_ go to acquired the cloak from Rumpelstiltskin. The red cloak Aiden unknowingly gives to the Dark One in this chapter is not _necessarily_ meant to be the one that is later procured for Red, but the implication that it _might _be one and the same is certainly there…

This fairy tale is sometimes also known as "The Twelve Dancing Princesses," or "The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces," and my version is a combination of the Grimm tale and an episode of an old cartoon show, called "Grimm's Fairy Tale Classics." The episode that tells this story bears the same name as my chapter. A friend of mine who reads this story asked me to base a plotline on this particular episode, which she loved as a child. **I do not own any rights to the show, nor am I affiliated in any way with the animation studio that created it, or the studio that adapted it for American audiences.** The rhyming couplet that Genevieve recites to open the hidden door is not the same as the one in this show, but is based on it. I have used names from the episode (in which there were only three princesses, not twelve) – the oldest princess was Genevieve, and her sisters were Louise and Julia. Since I didn't feel that the name Julia quite fit into the Enchanted Forest of approximately 230 years ago, I changed it to Juliana, who is the tenth of the twelve sisters. Also, the name Melore is taken from the end credits of that episode of the anime, and a French version of the story gives the youngest girl the name Lina, so since my youngest is actually twins, I went with Melore (because that name caught my eye when I watched the episode) and changed Lina to Melina, to make the names more similar and, yes, stereotypically "twinny."

The idea of a djinn having a small vulnerable part that he (or she) can remove and hide for safekeeping comes from a Dianna Wynn Jones novel, called "Castle in the Air." I have not come across this idea elsewhere in my research on the djinn, but I know I am far from an expert on djinn lore, so perhaps the idea is not unique to the novel. But in the novel, the djinn called that piece of himself his "life." **I do not own any rights to Dianna Wynn Jones' novel, nor am I in any way affiliated with the author or her publisher.**

Also, as before when dealing with the djinn, it is not my intention to offend anyone who believes in the djinn. The djinn in my story are intended as purely fictional entities.

When describing the scent of the djinn, particularly from Cassiel/Genevieve's point of view, I was inspired by reviews of a scent by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. The scent, of course, is called The Ifrit. I have never smelled this for myself, so I pored over the reviews to put together a description of how the princesses perceive the unique smell of the ifrits in my story. I found a forum containing these reviews when I searched the internet to find out what an ifrit is supposed to smell like. I have not used anyone's words verbatim, and just to cover all my bases, **I am not in any way affiliated with Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, nor am I receiving any form of compensation for mentioning their product. I have not tried this product myself, so my mention of it here is not intended as a recommendation of it.** Without this product, and without the resulting reviews of it, I feel that my description of the ifrits' scent would be lacking, so I am merely giving credit where it's due.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are looking forward to the upcoming continuation. I will do my best to have that out soon, but with Otakon coming up in less than two weeks, I will be very busy with my costume, and with preparing/packing.

Please review!


	39. S2 Ch18 - Ashes to Ashes

I really hoped to get this one out a lot faster, but after Otakon, I had out-of-town family visiting for two weeks... and also, this chapter required more research than most. But anyway, here it is!

As usual, I do not own any rights to ABC's characters, plots, etc.

**Update** I would like to thank Mira SeverusSirius Black-Snape, who pointed out that something in the chapter was confusing. Near the end, we see Mother Superior bringing Paige a picture, and I did not realize that I had not included the pertinent information in my "Previously on" section. In Chapter 2.16, Paige went to Mother Superior to ask if there was any way she could use her magic to discover who had been buried in Archie's grave, and in Chapter 2.17, we saw Mother Superior and another nun at the graveyard, where they were successful in discovering that information. The other nun used magic to sense the true form of the deceased person, and then to make that person's image appear on a piece of paper. However, the identity of the person who was killed instead of Archie has not yet been revealed...

At this point in time, I have not added to the "Previously on" section on this website, since the information is right here.

Sorry about any confusion this may have caused!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Princess Genevieve and her eleven sisters have been lured into the Underground by supposed princes, who entertain the girls with wine and dancing. The older girls have given up their chastity to the young men, not knowing that these so-called princes are actually ifrits in disguise. They are the sons of Merikh, who is trying yet another experiment to see if a half-breed child can be created.

An old soldier, Aiden, answers the king's summons to watch over the twelve princesses and discover where they are going at night, ruining their dancing shoes. Unlike the men who had tried before, Aiden is equipped with good advice and an invisibility cloak, given to him by an old beggar woman. Aiden does not know it, but that old woman was really Rumpelstiltskin in disguise.

Aiden follows the princesses for three nights, gathering items from the Underground to prove his story to the king. But while he is there, he keeps Genevieve from drinking the wine, so on the third night, the spell on her is weakened enough to let her catch a glimpse of her so-called prince's true form. This terrifies her, and Aiden, though still invisible, convinces her and the twins to run away. The other girls are still too deeply bespelled to follow.

Back at the steps leading to the castle, two of the ifrits manage to recapture the twins. Aiden gives the cloak to Genevieve so she can get away, but she notices the glowing step. Aiden can no longer see it now that he has taken off the cloak, and something clicks. He smashes the step with his sword, which kills the big ifrit. However, this also causes the cavern with the winding staircase to collapse, and Aiden and Genevieve barely escape.

Four years later, just as Genevieve's engagement to Aiden is going to be announced, the second-oldest sister, Louise, shows up. She kills her father horribly, using powers that can only be attributed to an ifrit. Aiden and Genevieve run, looking for a place to hide…

~In Storybrooke, an impromptu baby shower held for Paige is interrupted by a phone call from Mr. Gold. He tells Paige that he is dying, and that he regrets his lack of consideration for the fact that she had feelings for someone else, although he has come to genuinely appreciate the friendship that they have built. Paige leaves the shower without telling anyone.

At the pawnshop, Paige works her tiny magical ability against Cora, hoping to hold the powerful sorceress off long enough for help to arrive. When Cora finally overcomes the protective barrier, Paige collapses. When she wakes, she is slightly dizzy, but only for a moment. She rushes around to the front of the building and sees Emma with a strange man, who are both relieved to see that Gold is alive. The man calls Gold "Papa," so Paige leaves them to their reunion.

The next morning, Dr. Solano examines Paige, scolding her for not telling anyone where she was going. She lies to her doctor, saying that nothing happened. Solano says that the baby is fine, and tells Paige that they need to discuss her options for the birth. He recommends a C-section, but Paige is adamant that she can go through a natural birth without breaking her contract with Rumpelstiltskin. Horne tells the story of how Eliza's grandmother bore a child in near-silence, and makes it clear that he believes Paige has it in her to do the same.

Fawn and Noah's son, Will, takes Paige out into the woods to see his fort, with Dr. Solano's permission. On the way back, they are startled by two girls, seemingly twins, who emit an aura of hot air that slightly scorches their surroundings. Acting on instinct, Paige sends Will for help, trying to distract the twins' attention from the boy. Thwarted, one of them picks Paige up and throws her against a tree. The other twin announces that Paige is pregnant, and they both approach her unconscious form. Something startles them, and they each put out a hand to touch Paige's stomach. A flash of light magic causes them to pass out.

Ethan and Cassiel find them like this, and are shocked and almost hopeful to discover that the twins no longer feel hot to the touch…

* * *

><p>Genevieve knew there was no point in hiding. She was sure that Louise was capable of destroying the entire palace, and would readily do so in order to kill Genevieve. But without even mentioning it aloud, she dismissed the idea of giving herself up to Louise. It was foretold that the princesses would destroy the kingdom, so Genevieve's death would not stop the violence. And if Louise had come back as an evil, vengeful creature, her other sisters might do so, as well.<p>

She blinked, startled, when she realized that Aiden had led her to his chambers. She hadn't even realized what direction he had been taking her. She supposed he felt they could either hide here or maybe hold Louise off, but she was sure it wouldn't work. It must be his soldier's instincts to find a defensible location.

Lost in thought, she sank onto a settee in his small sitting room. Suddenly, his voice came from the air in front of her.

"Stay here. If I'm right, I might be able to… stop her," Aiden said.

"But… where are you?" For a moment, Genevieve wondered if she was going crazy, but then she remembered that Aiden had an invisibility cloak. "Oh, your cloak, but… how will that help you stop her?"

"Remember that glowing stair in the Underground?" When Genevieve nodded, he said, "That was where the big ifrit hid his life, the part of him that is vulnerable. And somehow, wearing this cloak makes it visible. Now most likely, I won't be able to do a thing, because if your sister is smart – or, well, the ifrit that's possessing her, I mean – at any rate, the ifrit's life is probably hidden Underground, but it can't hurt to check. And at least she – he – won't be able to see me with this on." He didn't say it aloud, but if he did see the ifrit's life, he intended to kill the thing, even if that meant killing Louise. Genevieve already thought of her sisters as dead, anyway, and better for the girl to really _be_ dead than to live as a puppet for an angry ifrit.

* * *

><p>Aiden couldn't believe it when he saw a glow on Louise. Strangely enough, it was just above her left hand, over the little bone that sticks out along the outside of a person's wrist. There was no bracelet or other object there, so it seemed to be the little bone itself. It was a very strange place for an ifrit to hide his life, but it seemed that the big ifrit Aiden had killed was the father of the twelve who were seducing the princesses. Perhaps he hadn't yet instructed his sons on how an ifrit should properly hide his life.<p>

He followed Louise as she sauntered through the castle, her new, strange voice sarcastically calling for Genevieve. He hoped his fiancée wouldn't hear; she was far too likely to try to sacrifice herself to save the kingdom. The trouble was, he didn't believe this ordeal would end with Genevieve's death. But it might end with Louise's.

Being as careful as he could, Aiden crept ever closer to the smoldering princess. He could see that her hair was scorched, and her skin had those tones of pink-turning-to-red that usually came from too much time in the hot sun, or getting too close to a bonfire. He wondered if she still felt pain.

With the ease of practice, all thoughts left his head as soon as he saw his moment. He could not allow himself to be distracted now. Though he had never actually killed another human, he was pretty sure that Louise was no longer truly human. Not letting himself think about it, he swung his sword at Louise's left wrist, as if he meant to slice her hand off. He didn't worry about keeping the cloak closed, since his sword was going to be visible, anyway.

To his utter shock, his sword bounced off that little wrist bone, and the impact sent the sword whirling into a connecting hallway. For just a moment, Louise's eyes followed the spinning sword, and in spite of the stinging in his hands, Aiden managed to conceal himself before she turned his way. He also stepped to one side, which was the only thing that saved him. Louise shot a ball of fire almost where he had been standing!

As Louise shouted taunts at the unseen man who had tried to kill her, Aiden slipped quietly away. He knew in his heart that he and Genevieve were going to die, and he refused to do so without seeing her again.

* * *

><p>Paige felt strange. At first, she almost couldn't feel her body. She finally managed to open her eyes, and that was the moment that the pain set in. Dr. Whale was standing over her. His expression was a mix of compassion, concern, and relief, and Paige couldn't understand why. At first, it wasn't important that Whale was talking to her. She was far too busy trying to catalogue the places that hurt. Her neck and the back of her head seemed to be the main source of pain, although her right shoulder was pretty sore. There was a spot on her right forearm that seemed to throb the way a burn does, and line of pain low on her abdomen.<p>

She just lay there for a long moment, trying to understand why the pain felt strange and almost dulled, yet not. Then she decided that Dr. Whale was probably explaining it, so she tried to pay attention to him. It came as a terrifying wrench to realize that she could only understand half of what he was saying!

"… been through… ordeal… but you're… and the baby…"

The words in between sounded like gibberish. And then, through her fright at not being able to understand the doctor, it suddenly hit Paige. The baby! She frantically reached for her stomach, which felt decidedly strange. But was something actually wrong, or was the strangeness merely a figment of her frightened mind? Dr. Whale tried to stop her, but her panic drove her on. She could hear the urgent beeping as she dislodged the electrodes that were measuring the rhythms of her body, but she didn't care. In the end, Whale had to hold her down and call in a nurse with a sedative. Paige tried to fight, but she couldn't win, and she soon sank back into oblivion.

* * *

><p>Ethan held Cassiel's hand. Though she was squeezing hard, he bore it without reacting. He knew that fear and hope were mingled in her heart right now, and perhaps other emotions as well. Never having had any siblings himself, he knew he could never understand the depth of her pain and sorrow at losing her sisters the way she had. But he prayed that this hope she bore now would not become a deeper pain.<p>

When Dr. Whale finally came into the waiting room, his face was serious, but also unreadable. What news might he be bringing? Cassie's grip tightened, and Ethan squeezed back, wanting to let her know that he was there for her, no matter what.

"I don't claim to understand this ifrit possession you spoke of," Whale began, "but I've run every test I can think of on both girls." He paused, thinking. "I need to know more about ifrit possession. I… have a lot of questions."

Cassie swallowed hard. As Ethan opened his mouth to answer, she looked at her husband and gently but firmly said, "No, Ethan. I can tell him." She turned back to Whale. "The truth is, there isn't much known about ifrit possession. As I understand it, even the djinn themselves did not believe they could possess a human. They could take a human-like form, but that was through their own manipulation of matter. Their power was too great for a human body to contain. But one ifrit wanted to experiment, so they exiled him, only somehow, my kingdom was founded right over top of their lair. The ifrit started experimenting on the royal family, and my sisters and I were guinea pigs for a new approach, I guess. And… it seems to have worked."

* * *

><p>"And I'm sorry, my love, but… when I saw the ifrit's life, I struck," Aiden said, his face grave. He was sitting beside her on the settee in his chambers.<p>

"But – Louise!" Genevieve seemed shocked.

"Somehow, that didn't harm her at all, although it should have. But the reason I tried to kill her is because I believe that she will not know any peace with that monster inside her. You saw her own skin begin to burn when… when she killed your father." Aiden swallowed hard, and shuddered. What an awful way to die. "What if there's a part of her that can still feel that pain? That is aware of what her body is doing against her will?" He knew that it would pain Genevieve, but he decided to say it anyway. "What if she's there, locked inside her mind, watching as that monster used her own hands to kill her father?"

Genevieve gasped, and tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn't given it that much thought. In fact, she had tried very hard _not_ to think of it. But now, overwhelmed, she began to cry very softly. "Are we going to die, Aiden?"

His breath seemed to catch in his throat. "I… I know not, Genevieve." He wrapped his arms around her, not wanting to tell her what he truly thought of their chances.

With her cheek pressed to his shoulder, Genevieve stared out across the room, not really seeing anything. "There must be something we can do. Or someone who can help us. But how can we find them in time? She will kill us all if we do nothing!" She thought of Louise, wondering if her sister was still in there with that monster. "Oh, please, someone, help!" It was the soft, desperate cry of a person who has almost lost all hope.

A strange, lilting voice came. "Doth mine ears deceive me? Or did someone just call for help?"

For a moment, Genevieve thought she was hallucinating. An impish little man with dusky gold skin stood before her, where no one had been a moment ago. Not quite comprehending, she blinked at him.

"Well, if someone did, I would certainly be able to provide such help," he said, in an almost nasty tone of voice. Then he added, "For a price."

Pulling away from Aiden, Genevieve said, "How? How can you possibly help us?" Aiden blinked at the strange little man, almost as confused as his fiancée.

Striking a pose, the little man replied derisively. "I can help because I'm the Dark One, of course!" In the midst of a showy bow, he looked up as he added, "Perhaps you've heard of me?"

With a look of near-horror on his face, Aiden gasped, "Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Well, well," replied the Dark One. "Seems your, ah… 'prince' has heard of me, at least."

"Who is he, Aiden?" Genevieve asked.

"From everything I have heard, he's a very bad man," Aiden said. "But… very powerful, as well." He gave Rumpelstiltskin a guarded, appraising look. "If there is anyone who can help us, it will be him, but I do not think we will care to pay his price. He has a reputation for charging… rather steeply."

"You might as well hear me out, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said gaily. "You can hardly claim my price too steep when you have nae even _heard_ it yet."

Aiden bristled at his tone, but Genevieve put a hand on his arm. She said, "He's right, Aiden." She turned to Rumpelstiltskin. "What _is_ your price?"

With a knowing smirk, the impish man replied, "Oh, there are other questions just _burning_ in your mind, eh, dearie?" When Genevieve paled and drew herself up haughtily, he snickered before adding, "The one who killed your father is only the first. His brothers are preparing to possess your other sisters, and come up here for revenge. You killed their father, see, and now they've killed yours. But you also destroyed much of their home. They'd like nothing more than to do the same to you. An eye for an eye, as it were. Only I doubt it stops there, dearie. No, I think they would like see _you_ dead, as well."

When the stunned couple didn't reply, Rumpelstiltskin offered more information. In the ordinary sense, he would never be so forthcoming, but his vision of this had not been very clear. It wasn't certain that he would make his deal with these two, and they were so perfectly situated for his purposes that he had to try. Besides, this price actually was rather steep, although they probably wouldn't realize that for some time yet.

"Ordinarily, the djinn do not possess humans," he explained. "Because they cannot. Their… magic, their essence, is too powerful, and would kill an ordinary human. So an ifrit, many years ago, was exiled here for wanting to experiment on humans. But his wife made arrangements to have a tiny, out-of-the-way kingdom founded out here, and his testing commenced." Aiming a mocking smirk at Genevieve, Rumpelstiltskin said, "He failed, of course. Over every generation – until yours, dearie. He linked his wife to your mother, through magic, and when your mother died in childbirth, he killed his wife to make a potion out of her essence. You know that potion rather well – it was the wine they gave you in the Underground." He grinned at Genevieve, enjoying her horrified expression.

Rumpelstiltskin began to pace like a lecturing schoolteacher, sometimes with his hands clasped behind him, and sometimes bringing one hand forward to make gestures to emphasize a point. "Over the years, the potion has altered you, making you… a little less human. The ifrit was waiting for you and your sisters to consume enough wine to alter the balance within, when he theorized that his sons could possess you. After that, he intended to lie with each of you, to create a half-breed child."

"But why?" Genevieve interrupted.

Waving one hand in the air as if dismissing her question, he retorted, "Curiosity, dearie, and nothing more. At any rate," he said, frowning at the disruption, "it seems to have worked. And time down there runs a bit differently from up here, so who can say how long we shall have between times when one or more of them emerges?"

"You mean… are her other sisters still alive?" Aiden couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice.

"That's right, dearie. There's one possessed girl up here, and ten more below, just waiting their turns."

Genevieve swallowed. "Can we stop them all?"

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. This was what he had been waiting to hear. "Well, as to that, dearie, it could take many years, perhaps even a few lifetimes, before they all emerge." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "However," he mused, seemingly to himself, "if I could arrange for time to stand still, as it were, until one of the ifrits emerged… and then if time could then be… paused again, once you have… dealt with her… yes, I think that could be possible."

Seeing the rising hope on Genevieve's face, Aiden asked, "And just how must we deal with them? They cannot be killed by normal methods."

"Well, as you have seen, they must keep the vulnerable part of themselves on the girl's person," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Side effect of possessing a mortal being, most likely. However, they seem to have somehow strengthened that portion of themselves. I can give you a weapon that's enchanted, and I do believe you've already got some means of spotting an ifrit's life?"

Wondering how he knew, Aiden reluctantly replied. "Yes," he said, resisting the urge to explain about his cloak. He had heard that Rumpelstiltskin knew things that he shouldn't have been able to, but as far as Aiden was concerned, that only proved the impish man had true power, dark though it may be.

Smirking, Rumpelstiltskin said, "I'll give you a weapon, and arrange it so that time will cease to matter until there is another possessed princess to kill."

"No," Genevieve said. When Aiden sputtered, trying to say how important this was, she cut him off, asking Rumpelstiltskin, "If you can stop time itself, can you not also separate the ifrits from my sisters?"

"I'm afraid not, dearies. No one alive today can do that. This process knits the two together quite thoroughly. To pull out the ifrit would kill both of them, anyway, and would be excruciatingly messy, besides." He gave a shrill giggle. "But if you destroy an ifrit's life, they both die. No more angry ifrit out for your blood, and your sister gets to rest in peace."

Aiden looked at the ground. He had tried to tell Genevieve the same thing earlier, but it shamed him that, even when the Dark One appeared, he hadn't thought to ask if the princesses could be saved.

"Alright, then," Genevieve said, her voice bleak. "But _I_ will be the one to kill them. They're my responsibility, and Louise – or Abbadon, whichever it was, she was right. This really is my fault. I _am_ the one who let them beguile us, so I am responsible for removing the threat."

"Very well, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin said, grinning maliciously. "Your new glaive will have the added ability of allowing you to see through your betrothed's cloak, so he can point out the ifrit's life for you to strike."

"And how will time stand still?" Aiden asked. "How can you stop time?"

"Oh, 'tis not a matter of stopping time outright, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "This will affect your entire kingdom – no way 'round _that_, I'm afraid. You, and everyone else, will still go about your daily lives, though nothing will truly change from day to day. Only when time is active again can your lives progress with any true meaning. But while time is, well, passive, as it were, you will simply live the same day over and over, never aging, never changing, just… marking time." He smirked at his own pun. "And if you like, I can enchant this clock to stop while time is inactive." He indicated a rather plain mantle clock that was perched above Aiden's fireplace. "The moment one of your possessed sisters emerges from Underground, why, the clock shall tick once more. By this, you will know when your, ah, _services_ are required again."

"And what happens after all of them are… taken care of?" asked Aiden.

With a particularly devious smirk, Rumpelstiltskin said, "After the danger has passed, once and for all, time for you two will continue in the usual fashion."

"And your price?" Genevieve was suspicious. This sounded almost too good to be true.

"Well, you see, dearie, simply by making this deal, you'll be doing me a great service," he said. "Sometime in the future." The glint in his eyes made both of them nervous.

"So making the deal is payment in and of itself? No deception, no future request for payment?" asked Aiden.

"Oh, no, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin answered smoothly. "Let's just say that the end result of this deal constitutes the payment."

Aiden wondered about that. He assumed that Rumpelstiltskin wanted the ifrits dead, and if that was the case, perhaps they shouldn't agree. But if the ifrits were loosed on the world, who knew what kind of havoc they might wreak once they finished with this tiny little kingdom? Then Aiden realized that Rumpelstiltskin very well _might_ know what would happen.

When Aiden looked at Genevieve and nodded, she swallowed hard. Then she said, "I accept your deal, Rumpelstiltskin."

With a grin and a flourish, the Dark One unrolled a contract out of thin air. "Sign here, then, dearie!"

* * *

><p>Whale blew out his breath in a long sigh. What Cassiel had told him had helped him understand certain things, but it had given him more questions. "So if the ifrits can't be separated from them, why are they no longer manifesting the symptoms of possession? The heat, and the charring you spoke of."<p>

Clearly at a loss, Cassie said, "I don't know, Doctor. We were told that the only way to get rid of the ifrits was to kill them. And my sisters along with those monsters." She took a shuddering breath, and a tear trickled down her face. "I have killed nine of my sisters, Doctor Whale. I struck them down, to save my husband and myself, and also to save them. So I don't understand how this happened, unless Rumpelstiltskin lied to us."

"No," Ethan said, struck by an epiphany. "He specified that no one _alive_ could separate the two. But that was two hundred and thirty-four years ago. Most people alive today weren't around back then."

"So… you think _Paige_ did this?" Cassie asked.

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, she was the only one there with them, but… she was unconscious, too. I don't know." He bit his lip, deep in thought.

Turning to Dr. Whale, Cassie asked, "How _is_ Paige, anyway?"

The doctor sighed. "She regained consciousness a little while ago, but we had to sedate her to keep her from hurting herself in her panic. Aside from the physical injuries, there's a very real possibility of brain damage."

"Brain damage?" Cassie paled, feeling as if this were somehow her fault. "How bad?"

"Well," Whale explained, "her injuries are similar, in a way, to a car accident. Now, when someone hits their head, their brain is jostled around inside the skull. That in itself may not be so bad, but the body's natural reaction to an injury like that is to rush excess fluids to the affected area. Normally, that's a good thing, but there isn't much room inside the skull to accommodate the swelling. We often find that the initial injury is less of a problem than the swelling. Many people can recover fully, although some have to relearn certain skills, sometimes including speech or basic logic. Until Paige is both awake and calm, we really can't evaluate her to see how bad things are."

Ethan spoke, softly. "The Dark One could heal her."

"I'm sure he could," Dr. Whale said tightly. "But I'm sure as hell not making any more deals with him, not if I can help it." He turned and walked briskly out of the waiting area.

The couple exchanged knowing glances. It seemed that just about everyone had made some kind of deal with the Dark One, and no one was too happy about it.

Ethan's voice was rough when he spoke. "I stand by what I said before," he murmured. "If we had never made that deal with Rumpelstiltskin, we wouldn't be here today. We would probably not have married, or had any sort of life together, and we certainly would not be here to discover that there may be a way to save at least two of your sisters. I do not regret that deal, my love."

Cassie smiled up at him. "I don't like that we made a deal with him, and I really don't like the thought that he used us to test an aspect of the Dark Curse. But I could never regret it, either. Think of the friends we've met. Friends who would never have even known we once lived, if not for our deal. For better or for worse, we're here, and we can be happy. Together."

He kissed her hand, smiling tenderly at her. "For better or for worse," he repeated. "After all, that's what we signed up for when we married, isn't it?"

With a small laugh, Cassie, said, "Yeah. It is." She snuggled herself into his arms. For a long moment, they just held each other. "This is going to sound kind of random," she said, suddenly "but… why did my father's army turn you out with a pension when you turned fifty?"

Ethan chuckled. "That _is_ pretty random," he replied. "But it was my own fault, in a way. I refused to take a captainship, which would have led into the chain of command. They preferred their generals to be older men, more seasoned, without the rash, hot blood of youth." He chuckled again. "Also, they were concerned that an older man might come to resent being told what to do by younger men. Now, I can't say what would have happened five, ten years down the road, but I never cared about having men do as I said. Even the thought of becoming king was daunting, because I don't have what it takes to be a leader of men, but knowing you would be at my side – that was why I worked so hard with your father, learning how to be king, during those four years before… before our engagement was to be announced."

Cassie hugged her husband just a little tighter. "That's silly. You would have made a wonderful general. All the same, though, I'm kind of glad you didn't take it."

* * *

><p>The next time Paige woke up, Dr. Horne was there by her bedside. "You must… very calm, sweet…" he said.<p>

Though she was trying to concentrate, she still seemed to miss a few words, and her stomach clenched. Why couldn't she understand people? What could be wrong? She raised her hands to sign, to ask that very question, but suddenly realized that she couldn't remember how. Her panicked expression confirmed what Horne had already suspected.

"There is likely… damage to… brain. It… possible… being only… swelling. I should… be trying… of repairs… is being well with…"

From what she had gleaned, it seemed he thought his skills with the mind might be able to fix whatever was wrong. Paige was glad to find that she could still nod her head in a way that meant she agreed. The way things were going, who knew what else she couldn't remember how to do? A few tears trickled down her face, and her heart pounded. She couldn't remember ever being this scared before.

Horne leaned over her, his hands poised on either side of her head. "You must… remaining very… and calm," he said. Not knowing how much Paige did or did not comprehend, he spoke over and over, in his calmest, most reassuring voice, and it seemed to help. Some of the tension faded from Paige's body.

Cupping her head gently, Horne closed his eyes and concentrated. Paige tried to relax completely, but her heart wouldn't stop racing. After several long moments, Horne stepped back and sank into the chair he had pulled over before Paige woke up. He looked exhausted.

"I was being unable to repair all damage, Paige," he said gravely. For a moment, she only thought of how tired he sounded. But as he spoke again, she realized that she could understand him again. He said, "There is still being some swelling, but I am believing that is the only difficulty. Once the swelling is for to be going down, things will be making far more sense, though if you are wishing it, I can be attempting the process again, on another day."

Once again, Paige raised her hands, but she still couldn't remember how to use them to speak. She blinked tearfully, and when Horne handed her a pad of paper and a pen, she eyed it apprehensively for a moment. What if she couldn't write, either? But she quickly found that writing was one thing she could still do. She was having some difficulty with choosing the right words, but at least she could still communicate, even if somewhat imperfectly.

Reading her note, Horne replied, "It seems that you were encountering two young women who are being possessed by ifrits, of all things. Never have I been hearing of such an unusual tale. For all know that a fragile, mortal being, even a long-living one like myself, cannot bear the power of a djinn, and muchly less the heat of an ifrit." He paused and gave a soft snort. "Indeed, I am saying all are knowing of this impossibility, when it is clearly being proved exceedingly wrong." He glanced up at Paige and shook his head. "But I find myself wandering into topics which are being only slightly related to the subject at hand. One of these two, it is seeming, threw you against a tree, leaving you without consciousness. But you must have been doing something to them, as well, for they also were found being unconscious. Can you be telling me of this event, and whatsoever it may be that you have been doing to them?"

With a lump in her throat, Paige wrote that the last thing she remembered was seeing Will's fort as they rounded the last bend in the path.

Horne seemed a bit disappointed, though he tried to hide it. "Well, perhaps you will be remembering later. Or not at all; such can be happening when the head is wounded thus." When he saw how pale Paige's face had gone, he hastened to reassure her. "It is being quite natural for the human brain to be purposefully repressing things that would be quite traumatizing. Many are they who have been making of full recoveries, and yet never remembering the trauma itself."

For a moment, Paige felt relief. Then she suddenly remembered something very important. Instead of writing a note, she flung back the covers and lifted the hem of her hospital gown. She barely even noticed that she was nude underneath, and besides, Horne had been her doctor all her life.

Low on her stomach was a swath of bandages. Her breath was shallow and quick. She started to pick at the tape holding the bandages down, but Horne grasped her hands. "No, sweet girl," he said softly, looking very grave. "You must let the medicines be doing their work."

Paige could see in Horne's face that she would not want to know this, whatever it was, but she had to ask, anyway. _What happened, Doctor?_ she wrote, after she had managed to disengage her hands from his.

He seemed to be at a loss. Finally, he gave a heavy sigh and said, "It was being the only way to save you, sweet girl. I am so very sorry to be telling of this." After a pause, he added, "You have been here for three days, Paige, and when you first were being brought here by ambulance, unconscious, there were many things that needed to be done for the saving of your life."

Three days? She had been out for that long? But what did he mean by things that needed to be done to save her life? Searching Horne's face, Paige suddenly thought she knew what he was about to say. But she desperately hoped she was wrong.

* * *

><p>Genevieve clutched the glaive so tightly her knuckles had turned white. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, tears in her eyes.<p>

Aiden was at her side in a moment, putting his arms around her. "I will do it for you, if you wish." He didn't want to kill anyone, least of all an innocent girl being forced into evil by possession, but if it was the only way, and if his true love couldn't handle it, then he would do it.

With a sound that was half stifled sob, and half sigh, she said, "No, love. After all, she is my sister. No matter how good the reason, I fear I might resent you if you struck the killing blow. No, it's better this way. It's just… what if I can't do it?"

"Try not to think about it. Try not to think at all. Just… imagine a void inside of you, and put all your emotions into it." It was something he had learned during his training for the king's army. It had been taught for the sword-training, but it had served Aiden well with a bow and arrow, as well, so perhaps it would help Genevieve.

"Let your mind empty into that void. Every thought, every emotion, just… tuck it safely away until the job is done."

Genevieve sniffled. "And deal with the horror of what I've done once it is too late?"

Aiden gently corrected her. "And deal with your horror and guilt after you have saved not only us, but your sister's soul, as well."

"I guess, when you put it like that…" She pressed her lips together to keep from crying aloud. She was startled when Aiden took her glaive and set it aside. He started talking to her, but she wasn't listening. Instead, she was staring at the weapon Rumpelstiltskin had given her. A wide, curved blade was set atop a long staff. On the side that curved inward, a small piece curled back toward the shaft, like a tiny, sharp wave. The center part was cut out, and those inner edges were every bit as sharp as the outer edges. There was etching on the blade, and as Genevieve stared at it, she began to notice the shapes in the knotwork. At the blade's tip was a dragon's head, and its cleverly knotted body was entwined with other knotwork. At first, Genevieve assumed the other knotwork was simply decorative, but then she noticed the leopard's head poised next to the curled-back piece. The two bodies were long and sinuous, and she saw one of the leopard's paws right next to a dragon claw. The image somehow inspired courage in her heart, which was not a feeling she would normally associate with either animal. Perhaps it was the intricacy of the etching, and the stylized look of the animals' heads. In a way, it was almost like heraldry.

"Genevieve?"

She gasped, startled. "I apologize," she said, a bit breathlessly. "I was just… I did not realize it has a dragon and a leopard on it."

Aiden glanced at the glaive. "So it does," he said, sounding somewhat distracted. Turning back, he beckoned with his hand, and Genevieve was startled when one of her father's most trusted knights stepped forward. She had not even realized that someone else had entered the room.

"If you wish it, love, I think it would be best if we married right now," Aiden said. "I know our engagement was never formally announced, but our circumstances are… rather unique, just now." He leaned forward to speak softly, so the knight would not hear. "If nothing in our lives can change except when we have to defeat one of the ifrits, then the only time we can wed is during a crisis. I would have you as my wife for the years of marking time, if you would have me as your husband."

The tears in Genevieve's eyes had a different meaning just now, and she smiled and said, "Yes, let us become man and wife while we can." She had forgotten that, after Louise was defeated, they would live the same day over and over, until the next ifrit was ready to make his move.

The knight kept the ceremony short and simple, and as she spoke the words, Genevieve knew that there would be a lot of "worse" times. But she was with her one true love, so although it might seem hopeless right now, she knew they would also have the "better" times their vows spoke of. She made a silent vow to herself, then and there, to always remember that.

* * *

><p>Dr. Whale and Dr. Solano had arrived while Horne told Paige what she had feared to hear. And she was furious with all of them, but especially Horne and Solano. Whale couldn't have known how she felt. Although she couldn't use sign language right now, it wasn't hard to tell all three of them to get out. She simply pointed at them, and then stabbed her finger imperiously toward the door. Then she turned her head away from them, angry tears running down her cheeks.<p>

But they ignored her wishes. "Look," Whale said, "I had made the call before either of them arrived. When Braden got here, he told me how you felt about it, but believe me, Paige, there was no other way to save your life – or your daughter's. If we hadn't performed the C-section, we would have lost _both_ of you."

Paige kept staring at the wall, as if trying to pretend she couldn't hear him.

Solano said, "Once Doctor Whale told me your condition, I took over. I know it's not what you wanted, and I am truly sorry for that, but we had no other choice. Because letting you and your baby both die was not an option, Paige. Not on my watch."

She knew it was childish, but Paige continued to ignore them. She took one of the pillows propped behind her and clutched it to her chest as she wept silently.

Solano shook his head. "This is why I insisted it be me, Doctor Whale," he said. "You don't deserve her anger, because you couldn't have known in advance, and if she's going to hate someone for it, I suppose it might as well be me."

As the two of them left, Whale said, "I would have done everything the same way even if I knew how she felt about it."

When Dr. Horne spoke, it startled Paige. Since she wasn't looking, she had just assumed he had left with the others.

"If this procedure was existing in the world that was, Princess, I could have been saving your dear mother. For this reason alone, I cannot condemn their decision. I was arriving too late for the making of that choice – you were already in Recovery when I did finally be getting here. But had I been here, I would have been choosing to do what I know you were being so very muchly against." He touched her hand, and seemed a little surprised when she didn't pull away, but he did not maintain the contact for long.

"By the way, your own sweet girl is doing well. According to Braden, she fares better even than is usually being expected for a babe arrived so early." This got Paige's attention, and Horne smiled gently at her. "I fear I must be reporting that I am being not able for to bring her to you now," he added. "Though better than is being usual, she is still very muchly in need of assistance for to be remaining well. They are keeping her in a place they call a NICU, where they can be giving her the special attention which she is so very much in need of just now. But when you are feeling better, I believe they would let me be taking you in to see her, if you are wishing it."

Before Paige could even reach for the notepad, Horne left the room. He knew she would need some time to sort out her thoughts. She had just found out that she had been unconscious for three days, and in that time, had delivered her baby far too early. It was a lot for anyone to take in.

* * *

><p>About an hour later, Dr. Horne came back into the room, and Dr. Whale followed him in. Horne tried to gauge the mute girl's expression, but Paige's tear-stained face was almost blank.<p>

"Here, sweet girl, this will be helping you to feel better." Horne gently washed her face with the wet washcloth he had brought in.

It almost made Paige tear up again. No one had washed her face for her like this since she was a little girl. But looking over at Dr. Whale, her face grew hard and unfriendly. She knew that none of the doctors deserved her anger, especially not Whale, but this time, she couldn't seem to quell it.

Whale's face twitched slightly as he observed Paige's reaction, but he kept his own expression as professional as he could manage. "I wanted to give you an update on your daughter. She is doing exceptionally well, especially for how premature she is. We actually think we might be able to take her off the ventilator tomorrow or the next day. According to what your due date was supposed to be, she's only at twenty-seven weeks, but if we judge by her condition, I would estimate that she's at least thirty-one or thirty-two weeks along. So I'm assuming that your due date was calculated incorrectly."

Paige shook her head decisively. She looked at Horne and raised her hands, then lowered them in frustration. But when she reached for the pad of paper, he put his hand on it, holding it down.

"I believe I am knowing what you are meaning, Paige," he said. Turning to Dr. Whale, he explained. "There is being no ableness to question Paige's due date. She was conceived of this child at the exact moment when the Dark Curse was sweeping us away from the lands of our births." He paused for a moment, but Paige nodded for him to go on. "The conceiving was being a direct result of a deal her former self was making with the Dark One. To save her brothers, she did so come to the decision that she was being willing to sacrifice her chastity to the Dark One."

Whale's professional façade broke. "She did _what_?" He walked over to the window and sat down in a chair, looking completely shaken, not to mention disgusted. "That's just…"

Before he could finish that thought, Horne added, "Over the passage of time, she was getting to know Mr. Gold quite well, and is considering him now a friend. In order to be not upsetting your patient further, it is my advising that you not speak against him."

Paige gave Horne a grateful glance.

Trying to hide his revulsion, Whale turned away. When he thought he could control himself again, he turned back, but his voice was tight as he asked, "So in other words, she pretty much conceived at the moment when time started again, right?"

"Indeed," Horne replied.

Whale sighed. "Well, then her due date is definitely correct. I just don't understand how the baby is as healthy as she is."

"Perhaps we can answer that," came a soft voice from the doorway. The twin girls who had injured Paige were standing there.

Cassiel pushed through. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I didn't know you were in here. My sisters wanted to see Paige."

Paige looked at the girls curiously, but without any hint of recognition. They both stared gravely at her.

"Alright, girls," Cassie said, firmly placing a hand under each twin's elbow. "We have to let the doctor finish up with Paige, _then_ we can visit with her."

"Wait," Dr. Whale said. "If they have some kind of explanation, I'd like to hear it."

Cassie paused for a moment, then let go of the twins. She still felt like the three of them were intruding, but she knew her own attempts hadn't answered Whale's questions, and the twins might be able to do so.

"This is Melina, and Melore." The two girls nodded their heads in unison as Cassie introduced them. "And this is Doctor Whale, Paige, and, um, Doctor Horne, right?"

Horne nodded. "That is indeed being my name in this world."

Whale could wait no longer. "What can you tell me about Paige's baby?"

The older of the two, Melina, exchanged a grave glance with her twin before saying, "The ifrits who possessed us watched their mother killed just after she gave birth to them." At an incredulous sound from Dr. Whale, she added, "Ifrits are very different from humans. They gain a dim sort of consciousness shortly after the moment of conception, and it grows as they develop inside the womb. By the time they are born, they are able to fully comprehend the world around them. It takes them only a few hours, sometimes less, for them to be able to move on their own, as well. So in those moments while they were still mostly helpless in a physical sense, their father stabbed their mother with an obsidian blade, to use her essence in his experiments. Ever since, they have felt a fondness for pregnant females, no matter what race."

Here Melore took up the tale. "Azalhu, who possesses my sister, realized that this young woman, Paige, was pregnant, but before he could tell his brother, Azriel had already thrown her against the tree. Both of them felt guilty, especially Azriel. So they approached her still form, and were surprised to feel a push of… magic, and also a sort of questioning. It surprised them. The child in Paige's womb had a strong magic about her, and seemed to want to know why the two ifrits were hurting my sister and I by possessing us. They touched the girl's stomach, and found that the unborn child possessed the ability to push the ifrits into a corner of our minds, leaving us in control of our own bodies once more."

"But now the ifrits are trapped in _our_ minds," Melina chimed in. "I get the impression that this was the only way to do it. However, this could only be done with the ifrits' consent."

"Which, as is being muchly clear, they were indeed giving," Horne remarked, sounding surprised.

"Yes," Melore replied.

"But that wasn't all," Melina said. "The child knew she was not yet ready to be born, but that too much damage had been done to the mother's body. Knowing that it was their fault, Azalhu and Azriel used magic of their own to try to strengthen the child, so she and her mother might both stand a chance at survival."

"Well, it seems to have worked," Whale remarked, clearly awed by what he had heard.

Paige's eyes were filled with tears. Seeing her face, Horne said, "I would like to be muchly thanking you two, on Paige's behalf as well as my own. Her daughter might be finding it very difficult to survive without you."

"First of all," Melore said gravely, "it wasn't Melina and I. It was Azriel and Azalhu. And secondly, if it were not for them, Paige and her child would not have been in that situation in the first place."

"We deserve no thanks," Melina agreed. "And while the ifrits _were_ responsible for the problem, they also did everything in their power to rectify the situation."

Horne nodded, accepting their rebuttal of his gratitude. "Then allow me instead to be thanking you for the passing on of this knowledge. Without it, we would have been scratching our heads in confusion, howsoever grateful we may be that the child is well."

With a glance at each other, the twins spoke at the same time. "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>Genevieve struck at Louise, but her heart was not in it. How could she kill her own sister? Fortunately, her strike went wide enough that the ifrit possessing Louise did not realize that Genevieve meant to kill him and his host.<p>

"Oh, sister," Louise's strange new voice mocked, "do you truly believe you can harm me? You forsook me once, and when I find my way home anyway, you think to kill me? Tsk, tsk! I am immortal now, foolish sister."

"You are _not_ my sister," Genevieve said harshly, her voice thick with emotion. "And though an ifrit will not die of natural causes, it can be killed!" She swung the glaive again, and missed, but this time her aim was clearer.

"Wretched trollop," Louise snarled, glaring. But there was also a hint of fear in her eyes, because the ifrit couldn't understand how Genevieve had known where his life was hidden. When the glaive swung again, Louise ducked and spat at Genevieve.

Without thinking, Genevieve raised her right arm to block the spittle. The glaive still in her right hand threw off her balance, and she stumbled a bit, just as the spit flew past her. A tiny fleck hit the outside of her forearm.

At first, she was confused by an odd sizzling sound, and then she dropped her glaive, crying out as the spit burned into her flesh like lava. She ripped off the lower part of her right sleeve and swiped frantically at the spit still sizzling on her skin. As soon as she scraped it off, she tossed the torn cloth aside, and as it fell, it burst into flames.

She gave Louise an incredulous stare. No matter what she had said, or thought to herself, it seemed that a part of her believed that her sister wouldn't really hurt her. But now, as she realized how wrong she had been, her surprised, hurt look hardened into determination.

Doing her best to ignore the pain, she looked behind Louise, where her new husband was standing, looking very worried. It was only then that Genevieve realized she had somehow managed to keep the glaive in her hand when she was wiping away the burning spit. Because he was still wearing his invisibility cloak, and as Rumpelstiltskin had promised, she could only see him while she held the glaive in her hands.

Aiden made some kind of gesture, and seemed to expect a response, but Genevieve had no idea what he was trying to convey. So she simply raised her glaive once more. She was sure that the only way she could actually strike the ifrit's life was pure, dumb luck, but she didn't feel lucky just now. So with grim determination, she prepared to strike again.

Realizing that his wife did not understand, Aiden lunged forward, toward the ifrit's back. He grabbed Louise from behind, but it only startled the ifrit for a moment. But that was enough. Genevieve's glaive struck true, and Louise's hand flew across the room, setting a rather expensive rug on fire.

The body smoked and burned, too, but only for a moment as the ifrit and his host died. Aiden flung off his invisibility cloak, which was miraculously unharmed by its contact with the ifrit, and rolled on the floor to stifle the flames that had sprouted on his shirt and trousers. Genevieve ripped a tapestry off the wall and threw it over him, suffocating the flames.

When he emerged, Genevieve noted that his skin had not burned, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She bent her arm up so she could look at where she had been burned. It was red and angry, and looking at it made it hurt more. Then she looked down at where Louise's body had burned to ash, and over at the ruined rug, where the severed hand had left a much smaller pile of ashes. Suddenly, Genevieve scrambled over to the wall, where she vomited noisily and repeatedly. Aiden came over and held her hair out of the way, but he couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound trite and inadequate.

* * *

><p>Genevieve had lost count of the years. When time stood still, it was impossible to keep track, and when one of her sisters emerged, it only took them a day or so to wrap things up – the longest instance had not quite been four days. She supposed she was lucky that the ifrits were bent on revenge, since that drew them to her. Otherwise, she and Aiden would have to hunt them down, and it would take longer, perhaps much longer, to find the ifrit and kill it.<p>

Over all those uncountable years, her people had dwindled. The kingdom had always been quite small, with only a few large towns and some scattered, tiny villages. Some of the people, especially those closest to the castle, had been killed by the emerging ifrits. They did not appear at the castle, but somewhere in the countryside nearby. Genevieve supposed that many of the others had fled during the few days at a time when the ifrits were at large, since that was the only time they actually could. When time was stilled, they would not be able to actually leave, however much they may want to. She wondered how many of them had gotten to safety, and how many had been killed by Wolfs or other dangers in the vast forest surrounding her tiny kingdom. Although now, it no longer seemed to make much sense to even think of this place as an actual kingdom.

She tried to tell herself that she had ceased to think of the girls as her sisters, but though she no longer hesitated when she had an opportunity to kill whichever sister had emerged, she still felt guilty over their deaths.

As her glaive sliced through Juliana's left knee, Genevieve felt lucky. At least this ifrit's life wasn't in her sister's neck again, which had happened once before. But even so, once it was all over, Genevieve threw up in the corner. No matter how hard she tried to tell herself that she was saving them, this happened every time she killed one of her sisters.

As Aiden held her hair and stroked her back comfortingly, she tried to console herself with the thought that there were only two left. Everyone but the twins had emerged, so surely her terrible ordeal would be over soon.

* * *

><p>Mother Superior hesitated. She had spoken to Dr. Whale, and knew Paige's condition, but the girl deserved to know. After all, it was Paige who had prompted the investigation, and the poor girl had seemed to fear that it was someone she cared about.<p>

Entering the room, Mother Superior looked Paige up and down. The poor thing was exhausted, and seemed to be in a shallow sleep just now. Even in sleep, the pain was evident on her face, but Mother Superior was sure that part of the pain was emotional rather than physical.

Before Mother Superior could decide to leave, Paige opened her eyes. She raised her hands, then dropped them, frustration clear on her face. Whale had warned Mother Superior about this, but it wasn't really important.

Paige studied the older woman's face, and her anxiety grew. She mentally begged Mother Superior to share what she had found.

"I'm so sorry, Paige," Mother Superior said.

Tears formed in Paige's eyes, and her breathing became quick and shallow. She pressed her lips together nervously as the woman who had once been known as the Blue Fairy handed a piece of paper to her. Terrified of what she would see, Paige looked down at the image on the paper.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold mechanically knotted his tie. He was meeting Bae for dinner tonight – no, Neal. The boy wanted to be called Neal, now. Though he was happy to have his son back, the boy still had his guard up, still didn't trust him. Gold supposed he couldn't blame the boy, after years of knowing only that his own father abandoned him. Bae couldn't have known that Rumpelstiltskin had spent every waking moment since trying to find his son, and after so many years, it must be hard for him to truly understand that.<p>

He wished Belle were here. She would know what to say to put him at ease, and with her gentle, kind ways, she might even be able to make Bae – Neal – see just how important this was to Gold. He swallowed hard, then thought of Paige. He should go and see her. Perhaps tomorrow. Even if she didn't know what to do about Neal, she would at least be able to comfort Gold. And that in itself might help him figure out how to deal with this situation on his own.

* * *

><p>A few notes:<p>

This chapter takes place after the episode "Welcome to Storybrooke," but before "Selfless, Brave, and True." As far as I can tell, it is these two episodes where we go back to the usual apparent time frame of approximately one week between episodes.

And since we're on that subject, I'd like to include a note on the timeline for the past few chapters (and the episodes they align with). This refers only to the Storybrooke side of events. "The Name of the Brother" and "Tiny" seem to happen on two consecutive days, with "Manhattan" taking place the following day. The morning after "Manhattan," we have "The Queen is Dead," and that same afternoon, "The Miller's Daughter." "Welcome to Storybrooke" happens the day after. Now, I cannot be 100% certain of this, but based on the events that were happening in the show, and sometimes on things that characters have said, I feel fairly confident that I am correct. (One of the things that was said, in "Welcome to Storybrooke," was a quote from Neal, when he told Emma that he had convinced Henry to go to New York with him. Neal says, "Not bad for day three as a dad.")

Please review!


	40. S2 Ch19 - Merit

Well, here's the next installment. I'm really trying to get these out faster, and sometimes I make great progress, but other times it stalls out for a while, especially when I end up needing to do a lot of research...

As always, I do not claim any rights to ABC's material, only the characters and plots that have sprung from my own mind.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, we have found that Eliza's kingdom is very forward-thinking. Anyone, whether man or woman, can become whatever he or she wishes, so long as he/she earns it. A child born as a peasant can become a knight, or a royal jeweler. Also, even a woman can be a knight, and a man can take jobs cleaning, or stay at home to care for his children. However, part of this equality also means that the first-born child must _earn_ the right to inherit the family business – even among the royal family, the eldest must prove his or her worth in order to become the Crown Prince or Princess.

~In Storybrooke, Paige has been attacked by twin girls who were possessed by ifrits. It turns out that they are the only two remaining sisters of Cassiel's Fairy Tale self. Paige is left unconscious and in bad shape, but the twins are also found unconscious. Later, it turns out that the twins have been restored – now the two ifrits are the ones trapped in the corners of the girls' minds. The twins are able to explain that the ifrits were upset to have harmed a pregnant woman. The unborn babe is somehow able to swap the twins for the ifrits, but only because the ifrits are willing to allow it. In return, the ifrits do what they can to strengthen the baby, so she will have a better chance at survival.

When Paige is rushed to the hospital, the doctors have no choice but to perform an emergency C-section on Paige, in spite of the fact that she is only 27 weeks pregnant. Even though Dr. Solano is well aware that Paige is against this procedure, he performs it anyway, later telling her that he was not going to let her and the baby both die like that. She is furious with him, and with Dr. Whale and Dr. Horne, though her anger at those two, especially the latter, fades rather quickly. The ifrits' attempt to strengthen the baby works, as her growth and development are more like that of a child at 31-32 weeks of gestation.

Because of the injuries inflicted on her by the ifrits, Paige is experiencing some troubling side effects. She is having a little bit of difficulty with choosing the words she wants to express herself, but worse, she is completely unable to use sign language. In fact, she has difficulties even understanding others at first, catching only about half of what they were saying to her. But Dr. Horne, who was a faun in the world that was, can use a sort of magic on a person's mind, and with this skill, he heals some of Paige's brain damage, though there is still some swelling. As a result, she can now fully understand what people say, though she still cannot use sign language.

A few days before the incident, Paige had spoken to Mother Superior to see if the fairies could somehow discover who had really been buried when everyone believed Archie was dead. Mother Superior was able to obtain this information, with the help of another fairy, and she brought an image to Paige. And Mother Superior clearly knows that this will be devastating news for Paige…

* * *

><p>Eliza fidgeted. "Mother," she said, almost in a whine, "<em>must<em> I wait here with you? It is taking them forever."

"You're eleven now, Eliza," the queen reprimanded gently. "You are old enough to understand the need for patience."

"'A Queen must strive to never be seen out of countenance; patience especially must she possess in spades,'" the young girl quoted sullenly, rolling her eyes. "But we have been waiting an awfully long time!"

Aenor smiled gently. "And we will continue to wait until they arrive. Perhaps if you had something to occupy yourself with, you would not be so bored. I could teach you to knit."

Eliza eyed the bundle of yarn in Aenor's diminished lap as if it were a viper that might strike at any moment. "No, thank you, Mother," she said, grimacing. She settled back into her chair and folded her hands, with a deliberate patience – the air of a child who wants everyone around to notice that she is, in fact, being patient. But it didn't take her gift of empathy for Aenor to know that her daughter was still seething within, chafing at this ongoing lack of activity.

As the minutes ticked by, Eliza found herself idly rubbing at the bandages almost halfway down the outside of her right thigh. The layers of her dress, petticoats, and bloomers shifted against the bandages, and she dutifully pulled her hand away and folded her hands in her lap again. Doctor Nerean said that the wounds would leave scars, and her picking at the bandages would only make it worse. But still, she found it hard to resist the urge to touch the strange, round marks, as if to discover whether or not they still hurt.

The queen watched out of the corner of her eye, amused. Finally, she took pity on her daughter. "Do you remember the traveling players your father hired for your last birthday?" Aenor asked.

"Oh, yes," Eliza said, her face brightening. "They did a wonderful play about the founding of our kingdom!"

"Think of the players, then," Aenor told her daughter. "No matter what might be happening in their real lives, they perform their parts when the time comes. So perhaps the player portraying Lanae is having a bad day, nothing going right for her – but when the show starts, she must put all that aside and show the audience only the emotions that are written into the show. The emotions and actions that are appropriate to her part."

Eliza mulled this over for a moment.

Aenor added, "In so many ways, a queen must do the same. She must keep her negative emotions inside when in the public view."

Solemnly, Eliza looked up at her mother. "But what if a queen is afraid of something? And she can't hide it?"

"Well, then, she should strive to control her fear and be courageous for her people. Even if they can see that she is afraid, they will be comforted if she can show that kind of strength. It is impossible to _always_ keep your emotions in check, but the more you practice, the easier it will be. And make sure that you have someone you trust, someone you can go to and vent, get all those negatives off your mind, so that they do not become bottled up inside. Keeping it all inside you indefinitely will only set you up to unleash those emotions in a time and place that is not appropriate."

"So, when it is just you and I, I can tell you how bored I am? But then when the courtiers and servants are about, I must pretend to be patient? Is that how it works, Mother?" Eliza thought privately that this seemed like a very inconvenient thing, but if this was the way it must be done, then she would try to live by this rule.

"Precisely, my daughter," Aenor said, smiling. "It's never an easy thing, and you will probably make mistakes, but that's alright, as long as you _learn_ from your mistakes."

Subdued, Eliza frowned. Then she realized that she could begin now. She smoothed her face as best she could, and tried to at least pretend that she was not bored. Perhaps she should take up some kind of hobby that would pass the time. The only trouble was, she couldn't come up with anything that wasn't knitting or embroidery, or some other boring, "lady-like" pursuit.

* * *

><p>When Dr. Horne came into the room, he blinked, wondering why Paige looked so upset. Before he could ask, she handed him a piece of paper. She had spent a lot of time on this note; several parts had been scratched out and re-written. He wasn't sure if it was her injuries giving her a hard time of choosing words, or if it was because she was so very upset.<p>

After reading it, he asked, "What upon this earth could be giving you to think you are being such a terrible person?"

She handed him another note that had been pre-written, although this one hadn't been scratched out as much. Reading it, Horne felt his stomach sink.

"What was the Blue Fairy finding out, Paige?" He glanced at the note again. "And who is it you should have been making aware of this news?" The next note Paige handed to him was only a single sentence, and nothing had been scratched out, though there were a few spots where her tears had dried on the paper.

_She found out who Cora really killed when we all thought Archie was dead._

Horne looked up, seeing some terrible truth in Paige's eyes. He watched as she pulled a piece of unlined paper out from under her notepad, and mechanically reached out for it. It was folded in half.

When he unfolded the paper, he felt tears sting his eyes. "Oh, sweet girl," he said sadly. He reached out to grasp Paige's hand. "This is being a most grievous loss for our kingdom."

He was surprised when Paige pulled her hand away to scribble another note. When he read it, compassion filled Horne's eyes, but his voice was stern when he said, "That is being perhaps the silliest nonsense I have ever been knowing you for to be indulging in, Paige." He tried to take her hand, but she pulled away. "Young Sir Elrick was being your friend and protector, true, but the fact does remain that you were not losing your prince, as you seem to have been fearing. There is no need for shamefulness that a part of you is feeling gladness that your true love is being not the victim."

_But I care for Ed like a brother. And all I could think was, "at least it wasn't Mike." I'm a terrible person, and I don't deserve to be queen. And now I have to tell Ed's family._

Horne gave Paige a stern look. "The deciding of your worthiness for to be queen is a thing to be left to observers who are being objective, and the woman whose worth is in question is being muchly far from objectiveness." He could see that Paige was unfazed by that, so he added, "Are you feeling gladness that Ed is having been murdered?" Before Paige could do more than gape in offended astonishment, he pushed on. "Does your heart be singing with joy that your erstwhile protector is no more? Be you happy that a young man you were muchly caring for is being now dead?"

Paige reached for the notebook, but Dr. Horne put his hand on it, holding it down. "I ask of you to be imagining for a moment that there was no cause to be fearing for your prince's life. If Mike was remaining faithfully by your side throughout the entirety of this ordeal, and _then_ you were discovering the murder of your friend Ed, how would you now be feeling?" Now he lifted his hand so Paige could take the notebook.

After putting some serious thought into Horne's question, Paige wrote, _Well, I wouldn't have felt quite so relieved, but … I mean, Ed had feelings for me that I didn't return in that way. So I think I still would have felt some measure of relief for being let off the hook. I don't know how I could have dealt with that situation if he were…still with us._

Horne smiled, but there was a touch of sadness to it. He knew how it felt to care for someone who did not return his feelings. "The dealing of such a situation rests primarily in the hands of the one whose feelings are unrequited, Paige. I am being aware that you were speaking words of anger to Ed before you parted ways with him, but had he not been meeting Cora that night, you would have forgiven him his rashness. But you would also have been remaining firm with him in your perception of him as nothing more than a friend, and you would have been making him well aware of your continuing _friend_ship. That is the sort of person you are being, Paige, and such responding is the best way for to be handling this situation. It would have been up to him for the finding of a way to cope with the feelings that he was feeling for you. Only he could have been deciding whether or not to press down those emotions so that he would not be losing you entirely. I cannot be saying what his choice would have been, for I was not knowing him as well as I am you, but you should be resting assured, Paige, that your dealing with this situation would have been above reproach."

Paige reached up and made the sign to thank him. Then her eyes widened and she gasped, nearly silently. Horne's glad face made it clear that he understood why Paige was suddenly so excited. But after that, her hands just hovered, so she resorted to the notebook again. _Well, at least I remember something. I'm sure the rest will come back to me soon._ She thought about asking him to try using his healing powers on her mind again, but she could see the strain in his eyes. He had apparently used up a lot of energy in healing her the day before, so she decided to wait another day or so before she asked him to do it again. And it was possible that more would come back to her by then, and she might not need another round of his healing.

She still felt miserable about Ed's death, and guilty over her reaction to it, but before she could sink into deeper thought about what Horne had said, a knock came at the door. Dr. Horne called out, "Be entering!"

Ruby eased in, looking very uncertain. Paige wrote a note and handed it to Horne, gesturing that he should give it to Ruby.

_Come in and let me see you. Don't slink around like you're afraid you might bother me._

"I wasn't slinking," Ruby said, but her slightly guilty expression gave her away. "Well, not much," she amended. She held out a bouquet of pink roses and a big pink balloon that said, "It's a girl!" and showed a picture of a stork carrying a little white bundle tied with pink ribbon. "Um, congratulations!" She was clearly wondering if that was the right thing to say in this case.

For the first time since she had woken yesterday, Paige realized that there were flowers and balloons strewn around the room. Some of the balloons were the "get well" type, and others were congratulations on her newborn. Her heart swelling with emotions, Paige thanked Ruby in sign language, then started writing a note while Horne explained her situation to Ruby.

When she handed over the note, it was for Dr. Horne.

"Of course, sweet girl," he said, sounding a bit choked up. "I will ask the nurses to arrange it right away."

After he left, Paige took one look at Ruby's confused face and handed her the note Horne had just read. "Oh, my gosh," she said, clearly shocked. "You haven't even _seen_ your daughter yet?"

_Well, I just woke up yesterday, and between finding out that they did a C-section on me, and I'd been unconscious for 3 days, and that I can't remember any sign language, it was not a good day for me. And Dr. Horne had mentioned it, but I was just so… overwhelmed, I guess, that I didn't think of it. Which is stupid, really – they've been in here several different times to pump._

"Um, pump what?" Ruby asked, not sure she wanted to know.

_Breast milk,_ Paige wrote in reply. _It's best for the baby to have natural breast milk if at all possible, even though I can't actually breastfeed her just yet. She still needs to be in the incubator, but they did tell me that they took her off the respirator early this morning._

It sounded weird to Ruby, and she made a face, but didn't comment on it. Instead she asked, "So… what did you name her?" The look on Paige's face said it all. "Well, I mean, had you been thinking of names, before all this happened? I know this was all kind of sudden – you thought you would have another two and half months to decide, but was there anything you were thinking of?"

Paige nodded, and wrote the name on her notepad. _Aurelia Kaltrina._

"Aurelia's a pretty name," Ruby said. "But… _Kal_trina? Or did you mean _Ka_trina?"

_No, I meant Kaltrina. See, Aurelia means "golden" and Kaltrina means "blue girl."_

Mostly suppressing her grimace, Ruby said, "So basically, you're naming her "golden blue girl," then?"

Paige simply nodded, keeping her face as neutral as she could while she watched Ruby's reaction.

"Well," Ruby said, "Aurelia _is_ a pretty name, and I guess the meaning is pretty descriptive." She paused and gave a small, ironic laugh. "At least you're not ashamed of where she came from, I guess." She smiled at Paige, noting the grateful look in Paige's eyes. But instead of acknowledging that look, she asked, "And what will you call her for short? Lia?"

Paige blinked, then smiled. She hadn't thought of that before. But she nodded. Lia. She still thought the full name, Aurelia, was prettier, but Lia would do nicely for a nickname.

Then Horne came back in, followed by a nurse with a pump and an empty bottle. "It's almost time for another feeding, anyway," the woman said pleasantly, "so we'll pump now, and since we're starting her on bottles, you can feed her yourself. How would that be?" Paige's face lit up, and she didn't need to write a note for them to know she liked the idea.

Ruby made herself scarce, not wanting to be in the room while they pumped for milk. It just sounded almost… creepy, and she didn't want to be a part of that. But Dr. Horne had invited her to wait for them. He said she couldn't go into the room with the incubator, since she wasn't related, but she could watch through the glass if she liked. She _did_ want to see Paige's baby, but also, she knew Granny would want all the details.

* * *

><p>King Owen and Sir Ryan rode into the gates with four young boys behind them, mounted on ponies. The boys all rode awkwardly, since they had all been born to poor families that couldn't afford the luxury of riding lessons. One of them looked pained. Out of all the boys, his village had been farthest away, so he had ridden the longest, and he was saddle-sore.<p>

Aenor and Eliza rose to meet them. Eliza's nether region had gone numb from sitting still for so long, and she tried to hide her limp. She wanted to appear as gracious and welcoming as her mother. She wondered if Weston would be expected to do this sort of thing, as well. He was only four, so he was really too young just yet. And the twins, Mason and Marcel, were only two and a half. But Eliza wasn't even sure that a prince, especially one who was not first in line for the throne, would be required to do this.

Eliza watched her mother welcoming the men home. There was no trace of tiredness on her face, even though the waiting must have taken its toll on Aenor. Especially since the queen was nearing her time to deliver her child. The very thought made Eliza frown slightly. Another boy. What she really wanted was a little sister, although she wasn't quite sure why that mattered to her. After all, a sister might actually enjoy embroidery, and not be interested in things like swordplay and jousting.

Quickly smoothing that hint of a frown away, Eliza turned to the four boys who had been brought to the castle by her father and Sir Ryan. They were all of an age – seven, to be exact, for they were to become pages. If they proved worthy, they would advance to the rank of squire, and eventually become knights of the realm. While Aenor greeted the menfolk, Eliza could practice her own skills on these boys.

"Welcome to my father's castle," Eliza said, smiling warmly. It had started out as a fake smile, but when she saw how travel-weary and homesick the boys looked, her heart went out to them. What must it be like to leave behind everyone and everything they had known? And all in the hope of bettering themselves.

"My name is Eliza, and I am the eldest of King Owen's children. Please, tell me your names, and where you hail from."

The saddle-sore boy spoke first, trying to hide his grimaces. "I am Oswald, your Majesty," he said. "Fourth child on a small dairy farm. I am from the village of Blue Forest."

"Ah, on the very edge of our kingdom," Eliza commented, wanting the boys to know that she knew her geography. "But Master Oswald, I will not be the Crown Princess until I have proven my worth as my father's successor. So all of you may call me "my lady," or "Princess Eliza." I suppose at the utmost, you could use the term, "your Highness," but I do not feel I deserve that one, either."

He reached up as if to remove a hat he was not wearing. "Begging your pardon, your… I mean, m'lady."

Eliza smiled at him, and he blushed a little.

"My name is Tern," another boy said, almost shyly. "My family don't own a thing, my lady. We works in the fruit tree orchards along abouts Meridale."

With a wrench in her heart, Eliza asked, "But when the fruit is not in season?"

"Oh, we still gets a bit o' work, tending the trees through the winter, you see," he said, his tone friendly and familiar. "But for extra, Mama takes whatever sewing jobs as she can find, and my Pop makes little wood-carvings, like. Sells 'em to other parents as toys for the childrens." His face turned somber. "Ever since I was born, they done had a hard time of it. One too many mouths to feed, see? So when I heard there was a chance to be a knight, I says to my Pop, I says, "Pop, I can be a knight and send back the extra money to you and Mama." And Mama cried, but Pop said I's doing the right thing, and he was awful proud of me." Tern gruffly wiped a tear from his eye, then looked at Eliza. He seemed shocked and startled that he had spoken so frankly and openly to her – not only a stranger, but the girl who would one day be queen! Because no matter what she said, he was sure she would be, someday. He wanted to apologize, but another boy began to introduce himself, so Tern just tried to look inconspicuous, and hoped the princess wasn't offended.

The third boy said, "I am Lance. My father owns a shop in Allinsville. My sister is getting married in a few months, and she and her husband will inherit the shop. They can't afford to hire my brother and me, not and take care of our parents, too, so we had to find work elsewhere. Father found Joel a place as a chandler's apprentice, and sent me here." From the look on his face, he was feeling a little betrayed to have been sent so far away. Eliza found herself hoping he would be happy here.

She turned to the last of them, who tried to smile at her.

"I am called Elrick, my lady," he said, trying to make his voice sound confident. "I am – was, I suppose, a fisherman from Lochton. Like everyone else here, too many mouths to feed at home, so here I am."

Lance shot him a dirty look, and opened his mouth to make a derisive comment, but just then Sir Ryan came over to round up the boys. "I hope you have all been on your best behavior to the princess, boys. Thank her for her kindness, and we'll be on our way to the barracks." They all murmured and made awkward bows. The word barracks had disturbed all of them, but Eliza knew they would not be there for too long. Once they had learned the duties of a page, they would each be taken in by one of the married knights, who had their own houses in the surrounding countryside. The young pages would still be expected to spend one month out of every four living in the barracks here at the castle for group training, but having something like a permanent home always seemed to help them bear it easier.

* * *

><p>Dr. Whale had encouraged Paige to walk around. He said it would do her good, not only to build up her stamina, but also to get her out of that bed, and that room. But he had also warned her to be careful not to overexert herself, as that could aggravate her injuries. She was to stop and get help from a nurse if she felt dizzy, or if her incision pained her too much. If she could have spoken, she would have grumbled about that – she was still upset about the C-section. But she did have to admit that it <em>was<em> nice to get out of those four walls. She had been in here for a week now, although she hadn't been conscious for the first three days. Aside from visiting Aurelia in the NICU, Paige had been stuck in that one room. The hospital corridors weren't anything to get excited about, but it was nice to have that little change in scenery.

She passed a small waiting room, and turned back. Belle was sitting in there! Paige just stood there and stared in for a long moment before deciding to go in.

When Belle looked up from the television, Paige gave an awkward smile and waved. The look in Belle's eyes made her heart ache. Belle was wary and unsure, and Paige knew this couldn't be easy for her. People coming in to see her, being all friendly, and she had no idea who they were. It must be an overwhelming experience, especially since it seemed Belle had no memories whatsoever. Not for the first time, Paige wondered who Belle would have been in Storybrooke, had Regina not kept the poor girl locked up.

Paige sat down near Belle and pulled a small notebook and pen out of her robe pocket. But before she could write anything, Belle broke the silence. "Um, I'm sorry, but… who _are _you?" She looked a little irritated, but she didn't say anything more.

_Sorry, I'm Paige. I'm mute, and even before your accident, you didn't know sign language, so the only way we could communicate was through notes._ Paige didn't see any point in mentioning that she was still having a lot of difficulty with the signs. Poor Belle was already stressed enough.

"Oh, sorry," Belle said, looking a bit embarrassed. "I just thought… I mean, I'm sure the nurses told you about… my memory, and when you didn't introduce yourself, I thought it was kind of, well, rude. But I didn't know you were… mute."

Paige smiled reassuringly and wrote, _That's okay. I had a bad accident, too, and I can't remember what happened. And that's scary enough, but I still have all the rest of my memories. I can't begin to imagine what it must be like to lose __**everything**__._

Belle gave a wry little smile. "Thank you for that. It seems like everyone else has been saying that they know how hard this must be, and sometimes I just want to scream at them, you know? To tell them that they have no _idea_ how I'm feeling, because they still have a past. And… and I don't."

_I'm so sorry, Belle. I wish there was something I could do to help._

After a moment of hesitation, Belle said, "Before, when I was hurt – I was bleeding, I _know_ I was. And a man was there, and he… healed me. And then I saw him holding a ball of fire in his hands." Before Paige could even lift the pen to write, Belle added fiercely, "I _know_ what I saw!" Her eyes met Paige's with a challenge in them, but with a question, as well.

Paige bit her lip and looked down at her notebook. Ruby had told her about a similar conversation with Belle, how she had become so upset that the nurses had to sedate her. So instead of writing what she knew she should, Paige wrote something a little different.

_What do you want me to tell you, Belle? Because no matter what I say, it will be wrong. If I talk about fever-dreams and the painkillers, you'll get upset because I don't believe you. But if I tell you I believe you, you'll still get upset, but this time because you'll think I'm just indulging you in what I believe to be a hallucination. So I'm not going to discuss that with you, because I don't want to upset you any more than I already have._

Too late, Paige realized that she maybe shouldn't have added that last bit.

Reading the note, Belle looked frustrated. Then she blinked. "What do you mean, more than you already have?"

Paige took the notebook back to write, _Before your accident, we… had a fight. I know you don't remember the fight, or what caused it, but… maybe I shouldn't have stopped by, because I'm not sure you still wanted to be my friend after what happened._

Belle looked curious, but she didn't ask. She knew she wouldn't understand the answer anyway. Then she took note of Paige's outfit. "Wait – _you're_ a patient, too?" When Paige nodded, Belle asked, "What happened?"

Paige put the pen to the paper again, wondering what she should say. Then she remembered something Dr. Whale had said about her injuries. _I was in a car accident._ Technically speaking, that was almost true – she had nearly been run over by a car three weeks ago. _I was unconscious for three days, and what they call "head trauma" has made me forget a lot of the sign language I used to use on a daily basis. It's coming back, slowly. And they had to do an emergency C-section to deliver the baby, even though she's almost three months too early._

"Wait, you're pregnant?" Belle asked incredulously. "I mean, you were?"

_Yes, but she's doing surprisingly well. They might even be able to take her out of the incubator in the next day or so._ Paige pulled a much-folded piece of paper out of her pocket, and handed it to Belle. It was a printed image of a tiny, tiny baby, inside a crib with clear plastic on the sides and top. There were holes on both sides, and several wires attached to the baby.

_Her name is Aurelia Kaltrina, and she was born at 2 pounds, 15 ounces, and 15 ¾ inches long. That was a week ago, and she's gaining weight fast. Now she's 3 pounds, 9 ounces, and the doctors are amazed. She's my little miracle baby. I just wish I could hold her._

"What's all that stuff?" asked Belle.

_They're monitoring her vitals. Originally, she was also on a ventilator and an intravenous needle for fluids, but she only needed the fluids for a day before they could put a tube into her stomach so she could have milk, and they took her off the ventilator early on her fourth day. And that same afternoon, we were able to start bottle-feeding her instead of the tube. So I know it looks pretty scary, but it's getting better every day._

Belle looked up at Paige, not sure if she should say what she was thinking, but Paige's face was blissful and content, so she said, "I thought – I mean, I don't know much about babies, but aren't they supposed to be, well, plump?"

_The doctors say she'll get that way. She wasn't developed enough to have stored the amount of fat most babies do, but like I said earlier, her weight is going up pretty quickly. When I first saw her, she was even thinner, if you can believe it._

"Wow," Belle said, looking back at the picture. "I guess she really is a miracle baby."

_If I had my cell phone, I'd be taking a lot more pictures, and video. But I think I lost it during the accident. At least, it wasn't with my stuff that the hospital put aside, and Dr. Whale asked the nurses and the EMTs from the ambulance, and no one has seen it._

Belle couldn't take it any longer. "What did we fight about? Why would you think I didn't want to be your friend any longer?" Paige seemed like a genuinely nice girl, and Belle couldn't understand why she might have come to dislike Paige.

Biting her lip, Paige wrote, _There's no point in talking about it right now, Belle. You said it yourself, you don't even __**have**__ a past right now. But when you get your memories back, you'll remember what happened, and we can go from there._ Paige couldn't help but wonder if that was true. There might not be a "we" if Belle couldn't forgive her for hiding her relationship with Mr. Gold. Paige hadn't really intended to hide it, but things had just turned out that way. She could understand why Belle had felt betrayed, but right now, Belle didn't even remember Gold, let alone that she loved him, so the news that Paige had slept with him wouldn't mean as much.

"Don't call me that. Everyone needs to _stop_ calling me that!" Her face reddened, partly in anger and partly from embarrassment. She couldn't remember who she was, so since everyone was calling her Belle anyway, that was how she sometimes thought of herself. For some reason, that made her angrier than ever when these strangers came in and called her that name, as if they knew her so well. And maybe they did, but she didn't know the first thing about herself. She wasn't even sure that Belle was really her name. Everyone seemed to call her that, but if it really _was_ her name, shouldn't that have sparked some kind of memories? Even just a little bit? Spurred on by her anger, she ranted at Paige. "You won't tell me what we fought about, and you won't take a side on what I _know_ I saw," Belle said angrily, tears forming in her eyes. Her voice was getting louder, and bordering on hysterical. "Maybe that's why we weren't on good terms. You can't commit to anything. I know what I saw, and I don't care what anyone says, I _saw_ it!"

The nurse came rushing over, armed with a needle. "No," Belle cried, her face panicked. She backed away, but came up against the wall. "Not again, please," she whimpered. Paige watched, horrified, as the nurse strong-armed Belle into a nearby chair to inject the tranquilizer into her arm. Belle sagged into the seat, mumbling. "But he saw… he said… saw… too," was all Paige could understand, and it meant nothing to her, but Belle kept repeating that sort of nonsense as the nurse helped her stand.

Paige wrote a note and showed it to the nurse before she could leave with Belle.

"No," the nurse said briskly. "It's not your fault. She's been like this since she was brought in. We have to keep her sedated, it's the only thing that seems to calm her."

A tear ran down Paige's cheek as she watched the nurse help Belle out of the waiting area. Belle's head lolled to one side a bit, and no matter what the nurse said, Paige felt responsible. She should have just walked on by, but instead she had only caused Belle more anguish.

* * *

><p>Leaving the day nursery, Eliza just wandered the halls, thinking about her new baby brother. Travis was nearly a month old now, and she had to admit that he <em>was<em> an adorable baby, but she still couldn't help but wish he had been a sister instead. She didn't let on to her mother, though. The queen had enough to deal with right now, without worrying that her baby was the wrong gender. Perhaps she could ask her mother to have a girl next time, instead. But not while Travis was still so little. That could wait.

Passing a window, Eliza caught sight of the training field. Sir Ryan, her father's oldest and truest friend, was out there, teaching the new pages. Today they were working with wooden practice swords. At this age, the boys were not allowed to spar yet. Sir Ryan was teaching them the forms, so that when they were old enough to fight, the patterns of swordplay would be part of their muscle memory.

Eliza decided to head down there. She rather doubted she could get any practice in herself, just now, since Sir Ryan was otherwise occupied, but she liked being at the training grounds. The smell of wood and leather, and the dull glint of the unsharpened practice blades – she far preferred that to her mother's pastimes of embroidery, and crochet, and such. The only thing her mother did that Eliza also enjoyed was playing the violin. Eliza wasn't very good at it, not like the queen, but it was an entrancing feeling to create music. To press her fingers to the strings, to draw the bow, and to hear lovely sounds come out. Although the sounds hadn't been very lovely at the very beginning, Eliza acknowledged wryly to herself.

She stopped by her chambers to change into trousers, just in case one of the older pages or a recent squire were down there. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared. Eliza smiled, remembering how angry her father was when she asked to learn the sword. He still didn't like the idea of his daughter learning to fight, but as she had pointed out, if she became queen someday, it was in her best interests that she was capable of being her own last defense. Of course, she had "pointed" that fact out during a shouting match, while she and her father were both in full temper, but she suspected her mother had reminded him of if later.

When she arrived at the training ground, Eliza was glad she had changed. Leera was down there, a girl a year older than Eliza, and well on her way to becoming a squire in a year or two. Leera was one of the few who didn't automatically defer to Eliza, and the princess liked that about her. Leera was a bit taller, too, having hit a recent growth spurt.

"Princess," Leera called, her voice friendly instead of respectful. "I was going to work on the forms today, since there's no one to spar with right now, but you look ready."

"Indeed," Eliza replied, grinning mischievously. The last time they had fought, she had very clearly beaten the other girl. Before that, they had been pretty evenly matched.

After suiting up, each girl chose a dull, heavy practice sword – a few pounds heavier than a real sword, to drive home to the young, would-be knights that a sword has weight. Not just physical weight, but emotional. You must always understand that whenever you draw your sword, you dramatically increase the chances that you will be responsible for the destruction of at least one life. Usually more, because most people have a family somewhere, and if you kill someone, you ruin their family's lives as well. Eliza could still hear the serious tone in Sir Ryan's voice as he explained that.

Meeting at the center of one of the practice rings, Eliza and Leera crossed their swords in the air between them and reached over the center of that crossing to shake hands. Then they backed away from each other and began circling, watching, waiting to see if the other would make the first move.

Eliza knew she was often very rash, rushing forward to attack without waiting to see what the enemy was doing. Sir Ryan had explained that to her, and it was still her first instinct, but this time she held back. A hint of uncertainty entered Leera's movements. With the helmet and all the padding they wore, Eliza couldn't see her friend's face very well, but they had both learned to read each other by body language. Eliza smiled, waiting for Leera to come to her this time. She was confident she could beat the girl again.

After another moment of circling, Leera made her move. She rushed Eliza, swinging at the princess's torso. But at the last moment, she changed her stroke, aiming instead for Eliza's feet.

Eliza, however, had seen the barest hint of the feint, just in time to sidestep. She raised her own blade, aiming a downward strike at Leera's shoulder as she passed. As Eliza expected, the page easily countered that. Both girls spun to face each other again, and Eliza suddenly started hammering at Leera, blow after blow. It was all Leera could do to parry Eliza's sword – or so the princess thought. Leera ducked the next swing and caught Eliza square on the hip with a solid thwack, immediately ducking around behind Eliza to swipe at the backs of the princess's knees. The padding, and the dullness of the blade, meant that Eliza was not cut by either blow, but she certainly felt them. The backs of her knees _hurt_, and she dropped to the ground. Victorious, Leera stood over the princess, her practice sword held carefully but determinedly at Eliza's throat.

As the princess acknowledged Leera's win, she heard voices. She eased herself into a sitting position and pulled off her helmet to discover that Sir Ryan and the four newest pages were watching! She felt her face redden in shame.

"Does anyone know what the princess did wrong? Did anyone catch that?" When he asked, Sir Ryan cut his eyes at Leera and shook his head very slightly to tell her not to answer. He wanted to hear what these young boys had to say.

Oswald, wanting very much to prove himself, spoke first. "She let her guard down?" he guessed.

"Not quite," Ryan said, smiling a little.

"Well," said Lance derisively. "She obviously didn't take enough time to study her opponent."

"Nope," Ryan replied, "that's not it either." He frowned slightly. That boy pouted, as if he was accustomed to getting his own way. Then Ryan shrugged to himself. Ah, well, if the training couldn't break the boy of that bad habit, then it would be dealt with.

Tern spoke up, quietly, as always. "Did she strike too soon?"

"No," said Ryan, raising an eyebrow at Elrick, the only one who hadn't spoken yet. He looked like he was thinking hard.

But his thinking was getting him nowhere. "She was too aggressive?" he asked.

"Not it, but a bit closer to the mark," Ryan said. Then he turned to Leera and barked, "What was Eliza's mistake, girl?"

The boys seemed shocked at his rudeness, but in spite of her embarrassment at losing in front of these boys, Eliza smirked a little to herself. What these boys didn't know was that Ryan treated all the pages this way. He acted gruff, and called them "boy" or "girl," claiming that there was no sense in learning their names until they had made it to the rank of squire. In reality, Eliza knew that he was trying to make them understand that they were not going to be coddled. He would probably say something along the lines of toughening them up a bit. But in spite of the way he acted, he truly cared for them, as if the pages he trained made up for never having a family of his own.

Leera's tone held no bragging as she replied, "Eliza assumed that I would be daunted by her barrage of attacks. She thought she could catch me off guard and win with sheer force."

"Good," Ryan said, turning to the boys. "At least one of you is going to have to learn this lesson the hard way, when the time comes, but a brutal assault like that is _never_ a good strategy. Now of course, it may work on some occasions, if your opponent is the sort to panic in the face of such an onslaught. But this training is intended to weed out anyone as weak as that. Oh, a few might still make it through and become knights, or a knight could be undone by some deep-seated fear or superstition that you cannot begin to comprehend, but you cannot count on it!" He eyed the boys sternly. "That sort of attack is called the berserker, and if you genuinely think you can win with it, you will most likely find yourself defeated, as the princess did. But if you resort to the berserker because you, yourself, are too panicked to be able to fight properly, then you have let down every man or woman who had a hand in your training! Not to mention your parents. So learn from this, if you can. The berserker is a useless waste of time!"

As with everything else, there were a few exceptions to this rule, but Ryan didn't tell the boys about them now. Plenty of time for them to learn that when they were older. For now, it was enough if they understood that they couldn't let themselves give in to their emotions.

As Sir Ryan led the boys back to their wooden swords, Leera put out a hand to help Eliza up. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I did not realize we had an audience."

Eliza could tell the girl was truly upset to have embarrassed the princess in front of witnesses, so she swallowed her pride. "It is well, Leera. Sir Ryan has explained about the berserker often enough. I let my arrogance over last time's win convince me that I was a better swordswoman than you."

"Actually," Leera countered, "you are. You're better than some of the younger squires, too. You just got carried away because of your last victory." She smiled at Eliza. "I have been guilty of that, as well. I started out that way. My first sparring match, I won, so I assumed I would always win. And for a long time I did, until someone finally beat me. I've been working on it ever since." Her friendly smile faded. "Sir Ryan… he told me that victory is almost as terrible as loss. He said that, in a true battle, victory would mean that I had slain my opponent, ended the life of someone whom I probably did not know well enough to stand as judge. In a true victory, the person I defeat will not stand up and shake my hand, or resent me for winning. For that person, everything is over. Everything he could have been, or done, is just… gone." Her eyes looked haunted by the thought.

Putting a hand on Leera's thickly-padded shoulder, Eliza said, "I pray it will not come to such a battle. Ever." She, too, looked serious. Then she tried to lighten the mood by smiling and saying wryly, "Now let's get out of these suits before we drown in our own sweat!"

* * *

><p>Matilda watched Caleb eat his pie. He was shoveling it in like a starving man, or like a man who didn't want to talk. She didn't press him, but took another bite of her own pie. When Caleb finally slowed down to gulp some of the blueberry beer that Granny now had on the menu, she smiled brightly. "This is nice, Caleb. Don't you think?"<p>

"Um, sure," he said gruffly.

Trying to keep the conversation alive, Matilda added, "Granny sure knows how to make pie, huh?"

"Yeah," Caleb grunted.

His short, terse answers made her want to cry, or hit him. Maybe both. "So, I think we should have dinner here sometime. You know, not just pie and beer."

He looked at her warily. "The only things I remember right now are my childhood, and waking up to find that everyone who was dragged into the woods with me had been eaten. So the only thing I remember about you is that I used to make fun of you."

Matilda clenched her jaw. She tried to remind herself that he was struggling with this situation, the same way she had when the Dark Curse broke and she remembered the horror of her true past. But she still wanted to punch him. "Think about those memories very carefully. You _never_ started the teasing. You went along with the other boys, but only after they had begun. And what about the ribbons? You said you remembered all those colored ribbons, especially the one that went right under my…" Looking around, she lowered her voice. "My breasts." Her face reddened to say it out loud like that, especially in public, but back when Caleb was first starting to remember, he had mentioned the green ribbon specifically.

Flushing as well, Caleb kept his own voice soft as he answered. "Yes, I remember the stupid ribbons, but I still can't put a face with the girl I… I mean, whose bre… oh, you know."

Looking sad, Matilda said, "But if your memories from after the attack are back, then that means your memories of the times between should come back soon. Look, I know it was hard to see everyone like that. It must have been even harder for you, because you saw the village itself _and _the clearing. But I thought I lost everything, too. I thought I lost you." She took a deep breath. "I started a shrine to everyone, and I killed Wolfs to earn a bounty. That's how I got all the things I needed. But the only thing I couldn't find was something to commemorate you. I looked for the vase you used to keep in your room, with the stargazer lilies. They're my favorite, and you said the vase was part of your great-grandmother's dowry."

Caleb stared at her, wide-eyed. He was thinking of the vase in his apartment, with a bouquet of dried lilies in it. How could she know about that? He realized that she must be telling the truth. But he didn't say anything to her. He just drank some more beer.

"I searched your house, but the vase was just gone. Anyway, I never understood why nothing seemed right to honor your memory, but now I know. It was because you were never really dead to begin with. And all this time… _you're _the one who trained me to kill Wolfs!" Matilda gave a wry laugh. "What a cruel thing for the Dark One to do. But then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He was pretty terrible back then."

"Back then?" Caleb snorted. "What do you mean, back then? He's _still_ pretty terrible. It's probably his fault that I don't remember you yet. Another cruel joke on us."

Matilda didn't even notice Caleb's acknowledgment of the two of them as a couple. "He's changed, now. Maybe not completely, but he's actually been pretty good to my friend Paige. I mean, from what she says, it started in a roundabout, almost cruel way, but… she says there's still good in him, and she told me some of the things he's done for her."

Snorting again, Caleb said, "Yeah, right. He seemed like his normal, foul self when I settled up with him a couple of weeks ago."

Realizing that Caleb wasn't going to agree with her, Matilda shrugged. "Well, maybe it was a bad time, or maybe he's only nice to Paige, and that girl, Belle, that got pushed over the town line. I mean, I heard he's in love with Belle." She shook her head to clear the subject. "But anyway, let's not talk about him. Why are you so against the idea of having dinner with me? What could it possibly hurt?"

"I don't know you well enough yet," Caleb muttered. Although he didn't remember her as his girlfriend yet, he was starting to suspect that she probably had been, and it made him feel a bit guilty for hurting her so. That made him even more gruff.

Matilda gaped at him for a moment. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You have memories from this world, you should know that going out for dinner is pretty much _the_ classic first date here, where two people who _don't_ know each other well go out to a restaurant to _get_ to know each other. What, are you afraid I'm going to invite myself up to your apartment afterward, and try to sleep with you? Or pressure you into coming home with me for the same thing? Is the idea really so repulsive to you?" Her voice got louder, until she was almost shouting.

"Well, no, it's not that, it's just… I'm not comfortable with the thought of… I mean…" Caleb floundered. He had actually feared that, if she really had been his girlfriend, his memories might come back too fast if they had a romantic date. That was why he had insisted on the arcade before now. She had convinced him that pie wasn't romantic, and he made it less so by ordering beer. He hadn't meant her to think he didn't want to be alone with her.

Suddenly, Matilda stood. "You know what? Just like Teacher – you're an ass, Caleb." She stalked toward the door, but it burst open and Marco hurried in, a young boy at his side.

"My son is back," Marco cried gladly. Several people in the diner cheered at this news, even those who had not known Marco back in the world that was, because he had found his loved one. Ruby rushed out of the back and made a fuss, and Matilda blinked to hear her call the boy "Pinnochio."

But no matter who the kid was, this was too painful a scene for Matilda. Why did everyone else seem to get their loved ones back, when her one true love was pushing her away? She edged past Marco impatiently, tears streaming down her cheeks. For one split second, she stared straight into Marco's eyes, and she could see that he was confused by her grief, and especially her anger. But Matilda kept going, not looking back.

* * *

><p>Eliza couldn't believe what she was hearing. She stepped around the side of the barracks building, where Sir Ryan had built up a small fire. The four newest pages were the only ones in sight, though.<p>

"Do you even know what a bath _is_, Tern? It's where you use water and actual soap to _clean_ yourself, so you don't stink of sweat and filth." The voice belonged to Lance, who had been a shop-keeper's son. He had always acted as if he were better than the other boys, but Eliza didn't realize his derision went this deep.

"Oh, come off it," said Elrick. "What's he ever done to you?"

Eliza smiled to hear someone stand up for poor Tern. The first time Sir Ryan had tried to get Tern into a bath, the boy had screamed, and even Eliza had to admit that it had sounded rather girlish. But later, Tern had confessed to Eliza that his family didn't even have a wagon to sleep in, like some. They slept in crude shelters made of dead branches, or sometimes in an unused shed when they could get permission. She couldn't begin to imagine what his life had been like, never knowing where his next meal was coming from, or where he would be sleeping that night. Tern said that he had never actually taken a bath, that he had never seen that much water all together at once. When Sir Ryan had shown him to the tub of warm water, it scared him. Even he wasn't sure exactly what he was afraid of, but seeing that much water all in one place had upset him.

But that had been months ago. Eliza had helped him find a better way – a simple washbasin, like she would use to wash her face and clean her teeth in the morning. He would barely fill that half-way, and then he would wash his entire body out of it. Eliza couldn't imagine not using a full tub of nice, hot water, but then again, she had never lived like Tern had.

But Lance was not intimidated by Elrick. "You still reek of fish guts, so you probably don't even notice his stench."

Elrick stood and would have started a fight with Lance, but he caught sight of Eliza, striding forward purposefully.

* * *

><p>Though the princess did not know it, her mother had seen her stop here, and came to see what caught her attention. Aenor hadn't heard everything, but she could see that the boys were eyeing each other in a very unfriendly fashion. The queen's dress looked out of place in the dim mews, with hooded birds of prey on their perches. The master falconer, a woman who looked almost like a bird of prey herself, came over to see what the queen needed.<p>

But Aenor held her hand up for silence, and pointed to the scene occurring outside the half-open door. Taking her cue from the queen, the master falconer made sure she could not be seen from outside and listened, as well.

* * *

><p>"But just because this kingdom is run so fairly does not mean a person can simply do whatever they wish," Eliza was saying. "If you four wish to be knights, you have that right, no matter how poor a family you come from. But the important thing is that you must <em>earn<em> your knighthood. My father's master falconer, Mara – Leera's mother – once lived on the streets of her village. A knight offered her a job helping with his hawks and falcons, even though she didn't know the art of hawking. He taught her everything, and when he died, she thought she was going to have to leave the room she was renting with the money he paid her, but she had learned the craft well, so he had recommended her to my grandmother, who took her on as a falconer here at the castle. She became someone important because that is what she _made_ of herself." Of course, there was much more to the story than that, but it wasn't Eliza's place to give all the details. It was enough for the boys to know that the master falconer had come from a very humble beginning.

"Well, I would think a knight at _least_ has to be clean, my lady," Lance said sarcastically. He raised an eyebrow at Tern, enjoying the boy's flushed embarrassment.

"Tern uses the same soap you do, Lance," Eliza said wryly. "So that must mean you are not clean either. Is that it?"

"Of course I'm clean," Lance objected. "Unlike some people, I actually _take_ baths!"

"Tern bathes, as well," Eliza pointed out. "He just doesn't like to waste the amount of water you or I would use. A very good habit in the case of a drought, Lance."

Lance seemed shocked. "A knight shouldn't _have_ to bathe out of a tiny basin like that," he objected.

Raising her eyebrow curiously, Eliza asked, "Think you that the wells of knights never run dry? When there is a drought, even the royal family must ration water." Her voice was light, but she was inwardly shocked by Lance's apparent sense of entitlement. Even she understood that if the wells were drying up, she would have to do without a bath.

Lance sputtered, not sure what to say. The idea of a drought had never occurred to him. He had simply thought of the good things in life that would come to a knight, like fine clothes and well-made furniture.

"Anyway," Eliza said, "my point is this. If you four all wish to, you can become knights – but you must first prove yourselves worthy. And I know not how it goes in other kingdoms, but here, part of being a knight is having a good, kind heart. And a man with a kind heart does not belittle another simply because of the other's circumstances." She fixed her eyes on Lance. He seemed uncomfortable, but he met her gaze. "And thus far, Lance, you have only proven that you are _unfit_ for knighthood. Fortunately for you, though, you still have several years before you even become a squire. Time enough to rectify the mistake you are making now. But I warn you, if I hear of this sort of behavior again, Sir Ryan _will_ hear of this."

She turned on her heel and walked away, trying to be graceful. She wanted to stomp angrily, but she knew that would be inappropriate.

* * *

><p>Inside the mews, Aenor smiled at Mara, tears in her eyes.<p>

"Your daughter is wise," Mara said.

"Indeed," Aenor replied, taking Mara's proffered hand and pressing it for a moment before sweeping elegantly out of the mews.

* * *

><p>Only a year later, three of those four boys gathered in almost the same spot, only this time there was no cozy fire after supper. The barracks had burned down, and the three boys stared at the ruins. Lance's sword arm was burned, and all of their clothes and hair were singed. A young man with a medical bag kept trying to move them away from the heat of the smoldering ruins, but they shook him off. Though they knew there was no real hope, they still watched anxiously.<p>

Sir Ryan, a wet cloth over his head and around his mouth, was poking through the ruins. Nearby, Mara and Leera were on the roof of the mews, taking buckets from men and women below to soak the roof. The birds were making a lot of noise inside, frightened by the danger they sensed, and the other falconers were in there soothing them, but Mara meant to make sure the mews was not in danger of catching fire, as well.

The young doctor finally gave up on moving the boys away from the ruins, and started treating Lance's arm. Lance stood there, watching Sir Ryan intently, as if he didn't even realize the doctor was putting a salve on his burn.

Finally, the knight seemed to find what he was looking for. A squire who had accompanied him handed him a sopping blanket, then turned and retched as he scrambled out of the burned area. The walls had mostly collapsed, and as he made his way to safety, his skin was red from the heat, but he looked weak and pale, somehow.

Ryan made for the three boys who were standing too close. He pushed right past them, and they followed in his wake. The young doctor muttered to himself, but grabbed his bag and went with them.

Lance had to try three times, clearing his throat and tasting soot, before he could speak. "Sir Ryan, is that…?"

With a hitch in his voice, the knight said, "Yes, lad, I'm afraid so." He flipped one corner of the blanket aside. Tern's face showed, black with soot and streaked with blood. The boys all cried out in dismay.

"He… he saved me," Lance croaked. "Why?"

Sir Ryan suspected it was a rhetorical question, but he answered it anyway, his voice gruff from smoke inhalation and emotion. "That's who he was, lad."

The boy looked stricken, and though he didn't speak it aloud, Lance vowed to himself then and there that he would never again judge someone by how they lived.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold sat down on Paige's couch with a heavy sigh. He should have known she wasn't here, with the house completely dark by the hour of nine o'clock at night. Paige didn't usually go to bed that early.<p>

The house felt strange, as if it had been empty for some time. He suddenly recalled that Paige had been spending a lot of time over at Noah's. The man who would be her brother-in-law if young Michael came to his senses. Then Gold's chest tightened.

What if Michael _had_ come back? What if he and Paige were out somewhere together right now? On a date, perhaps. The thought pained him more than he had thought it would. Not because he didn't want Paige to be happy, but because a part of him was jealous at the thought that Paige might have her true love back, while Gold's had been stolen from him. Had Paige felt this way when he and Belle had been together, while Michael was still "deciding?" Next time he saw Paige, he would ask her, if he could gather the courage to say it aloud.

For a long moment, all he could think of was Belle's face, hysterical, as she asked, "Who's Belle?" Her distress when she woke to his kiss. And then he saw again Paige's face, while he choked her. That spark of true terror, realizing that she had no way of snapping him out of it, realizing that he might kill her. He still couldn't understand how she had forgiven him so readily.

He wondered what Paige and Belle would say if they knew. Of course, when he had said he would simply kill the boy who led him to Bae, he hadn't known the boy would turn out to be Bae's own son. Gold's grandson. But… now that he had found his boy, could he let Henry live, to be his undoing? Could he lose everything so soon after finally getting his son back?

He wished he could talk to one of them, but visiting Belle would only make him feel worse right now, and he had no intention of going to Noah's house to look for Paige. He didn't want to be around people right now. He could probably text Paige, not about the problem itself, but that he needed to see her. She would most likely be glad to know that he was alive, but then again, she hadn't tried to contact him at all, or come find him to see for herself, so maybe she didn't care after all. Maybe she was glad to have him out of her life, maybe that would make things smoother between her and young Michael.

So even though his heart ached, Gold kept his phone in his pocket and left Paige's empty house, making sure to lock up behind himself.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place a little before, and then during, the episode "Selfless, Brave, and True." Again, it seems to be about a week after the previous episode. (Also, remember that the last chapter did not correspond to the previous episode - it happened during the time between the two. Because of earlier chapters that combined the events of two different episodes, this means that my total number of chapters is now equivalent to the total number of episodes up to and including "Selfless, Brave, and True.")

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please tell me if there is anything you'd like to see more of, or things you've been wondering about (like how certain upcoming events/characters will affect _any_ of my characters - not just Paige and Mike, but the minor characters I've created, as well), or even things we haven't seen lately that you miss. Or things that you're tired of. Or just tell me how you feel about finding out who really died. Perhaps you have a favorite side character of my creation that you'd like to see more of. So please review!


	41. S2 Ch20 - The Haunted Hollow

Here we go! Sadly, this did not come out in time for Halloween, like I'd hoped, but making a cloak for my Halloween costume took a lot longer than I thought it would. It turned out great, though. And because of ABC's Storybrooke timeline throughout the last several episodes of Season Two (including episodes that will be dealt with in upcoming chapters), I've had to completely rework some parts of my own storyline... Also, as the title of the chapter suggests, the Fairy-Tale side is about a haunting, and I've never written a haunting before. I was really nervous about it, and I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, there was once a single large kingdom that has since split into three. One has become the Blueberry Kingdom, where all men and women have the right to pursue any livelihood they please – a woman can be a knight, a man can take on the duties of a maid, et cetera. This is the kingdom of which Eliza will someday be queen. Another of the three has become the Wolfsbane Kingdom, where the royal army must constantly patrol the Wolfswood to protect the people from Wolfs, bizarre creatures that were created by an ancient sorcerer to kill ogres. Though Wolfs were not meant to become a viable species, they somehow did, and now they still plague the edge of the forest that separates these three small kingdoms from the main kingdoms, where Snow White and her friends (and enemies) live. Eliza's true love, Andrew, was born a prince of the Wolfsbane kingdom.

King Rolph, under whose rule the other two kingdoms sprang up five hundred years ago, never recovered from what he saw as the ultimate betrayals of his first wife and his eldest son. He never understood that he had first betrayed them. All that now remains of the original kingdom lies between the Blueberry and the Wolfsbane, and that land has broken down into civil war, with many factions vying for the right to place their candidate on a throne that has been empty for approximately three generations.

~In Storybrooke, Paige made a second deal with Mr. Gold. In exchange for her continued employment, and therefore ability to live on her own, she must offer her assistance in the future when he has need of her help. She demands the right to choose if she finds that assistance acceptable to her morals, and he grants that, stating that if she chooses not to assist him, she would owe him a favor. He etches a tattoo-like marking on the upper part of her left breast. The image is reminiscent of the mask he wore when he danced with her at her masquerade in the Enchanted Forest.

More recently, Paige was attacked by two ifrits possessing twin girls – the sisters of Cassiel Gould, the head bartender at the Catacombs Club (better known by its nickname, the Cat Club) in Storybrooke. This causes her to go into early labor, and her baby is born at only 27 weeks of gestation. However, the twin ifrits watched their mother get killed immediately after they were born, and because of that, they now have a bit of a soft spot for expectant mothers. Feeling guilty over having hurt a pregnant woman, they use their powers to try to strengthen the babe, and also allow the unborn child to use her own magic to suppress them, putting the twin girls back in charge of their own bodies.

Aside from the emergency C-section, Paige has some swelling on her brain from her injuries, and as a result cannot even fully understand people when she first regains consciousness. Dr. Nerean, a faun in the world that was, uses his own magic to partially heal Paige's brain, so she can understand others now, and can write her own responses, but she still has some difficulty with choosing words and at first is completely unable to remember sign language. Now, sign language is starting to come back to her and she is finding it much easier to find the words she wants to use.

Despite being so very premature, Paige's baby (whom she names Aurelia Kaltrina) is doing far better than expected. She is still reacting like a premature baby, but more as if she were born at 30-32 weeks of gestation. She is rapidly gaining weight, and though she had to be on many machines at first, she is beginning to be able to survive on her own.

While Paige is in the hospital, Mother Superior visits to give her bad news. Paige had asked if the fairies could somehow find out who had really been killed in Archie's place, and Mother Superior has that information. Paige's fears are assuaged when she sees the picture of Ed Grove, who was Sir Elrick in the world that was. However, she also feels very guilty that she was relieved, because although she was angry with Ed the last time she saw him, she thinks of him almost as one of her brothers.

* * *

><p>Tristan, fourteen years old, leaned over to ask his brother, "Have you ever heard of the Haunted Hollow?" He spoke with an exaggerated whisper, like one would hear in a play. He smirked as his seven-year-old brother shook his head, eyes wide with alarm. Tristan continued. "They say that a king from long ago was killed there. It was so long ago that all these kingdoms were still one. In fact, this was not long after Wolfs first appeared, created by an evil sorcerer!"<p>

Andrew gasped in terror.

"But the evil sorcerer was a tricky man. He acted like the king's friend, and the king was fooled. I guess that king was dumb, like you."

"Hey," Andrew protested, his fear now mixed with anger at this affront, "you're plenty dumb yourself, you know."

"As if," Tristan snapped. "Since when I have done something as dumb as you?"

Andrew glowered as he replied, "Whose idea was it to go out rafting in the spring melt?"

Tristan blinked. It was true, that really _hadn't_ been one of his best ideas. But still… "Well, you're the dork who fell overboard."

"I'm only seven, I am not as strong as you, and you know it!" Andrew shouted. "I held on as tight as ever I could, but the floods were stronger!"

"Well, it turned out alright in the end, now didn't it?" Tristan had tears in his eyes that were only partly angry. He knew it was his fault that his brother had almost died, but he didn't like to admit it, even to himself.

Sulking a little, Andrew said, "You just got lucky those naiads were there."

Both boys blushed at the thought. Naiads were water nymphs, and the boys discovered that nymphs do not wear any clothing. Tristan had scarcely known where to look, and Andrew was no better once he came around after the nymphs drew all the water from his lungs by playing a wild, liquid tune on their curved flutes made from the rib-bones of some kind of large fish.

After a moment of awkward silence, Tristan said, "Anyway, the Haunted Hollow. So, the evil sorcerer lured the king there so that the Wolfs would kill the king, and they did! But the sorcerer died there, too. No one knows if the Wolfs turned on their creator, or if the king's ghost killed the sorcerer, but after they both died in there, the Hollow became completely bare. No trees grow in there, no bushes, and what little grass manages to grow is sickly and yellow, like a Wolf's eye. But then, in Rolph's day, when Firend discovered his father's treachery and founded his own kingdom, the spirit of that ancient king grew angry, and now if anyone from our kingdom, especially _our_ family, goes there…" Tristan paused a moment for effect, and when he spoke again it was in another stage whisper. "They never come out again!"

Andrew whimpered and shied away from his brother's outstretched arms. "No!" he cried.

Tristan wiped the spooky look off his face and put his hands on his hips. "Oh, come on, are you really that much of a scaredy-babe? Scaredy-babe, scaredy-babe," he taunted.

"Am not!" Andrew insisted, pouting. "Am not, am not, am _not_!"

"Prove it, then," Tristan said, an idea coming to him. "Next week while Father is away, sneak out with me and we'll go to the Haunted Hollow. It's just over half a day's journey from here."

"I don't want to!" Andrew cried. "Besides, Mother won't let us!"

Tristan sneered at his little brother. "We can tell her we want to go camping. And we shall say we mean to go to the grounds of the old manor, so she won't make us bring any guards."

The old manor was where Firend first lived while a castle was being built in his new kingdom. It was an easy afternoon's ride from the castle, and sometimes members of the royal family used it for a retreat. The boys had camped there before and been allowed to go by themselves. In fact, that was how they been able to go white-water rafting the previous spring. They had not confessed what they had done, or that Andrew had almost died.

With a sulky look on his face, Andrew repeated, "I don't want to!"

"So you really _are_ a scaredy-babe, huh?" Tristan taunted. He knew that his brother would give in eventually. The boy couldn't take it when someone said he was scared of something.

* * *

><p>Paige felt restless. Part of her wished they would just release her from the hospital already, but at the same time, she couldn't stand the thought of going home without her daughter. Even though it made no sense, Paige felt guilty that Aurelia had been born so very early, and leaving the baby at the hospital just seemed like it would be another betrayal. Adding insult to injury, as her father would have said.<p>

She was having almost no trouble with picking the word she wanted, but the issue now was that quite a few signs had not yet come back to her. So although _she_ knew what she meant, she couldn't communicate certain words without writing them down, and it was frustrating.

The nurses had told her that they were trying to remove Aurelia from the incubator today. If she could keep her body temperature up on her own, she would be one step closer to being ready to face the world outside the hospital. Not only that, but Paige would finally be able to hold her, and nurse her. Paige rubbed at her head. If only these damned headaches would stop, she was sure Dr. Whale would release her! But he was concerned about the frequency of her headaches, especially since some of them were quite severe. He had told her just this morning that he was worried that there might still be some damage to her brain.

She intended to ask Dr. Horne to use his magic and take a look again, but he hadn't come to the hospital yet today. He had told her the evening before that he had to take care of a few things at his facility, and had a morning appointment with Sammi Clemens, the marketing agent who was helping them get the Blueberry Farm set up as an actual shop. If all went well, they might have their grand opening within the month.

Her thoughts strayed to Mr. Gold. She had been in here for just over a week now, and he hadn't visited her once, unless it was while she was unconscious. Was he angry with her for some reason? It was obvious that his attempt to reawaken Belle's memories had not gone as planned. So maybe, even though it didn't make much sense, he blamed Paige for that. She knew well enough that the human mind was far from logical when a person was upset. Even though it had saved not only her own life, but Aurelia's, Paige was still furious with Dr. Solano for performing the C-section. In fact, she had ignored him ever since she regained consciousness. A part of her felt bad for that, but only a small part. Mostly, she felt that he deserved this treatment. Even though it was a highly illogical viewpoint.

But she still wondered. Why hadn't Mr. Gold come to see her, or at least to see his own daughter?

Suddenly, Fawn's voice distracted Paige from her thoughts. "Sister mine," Fawn said, knocking as she opened the door. "I cannot stay long, but I wanted to bring you this." She handed Paige a large bag.

Peering in, Paige saw her knitting inside, which made her grin ruefully. She had finished the scarf Granny had started her on, and instead of taking the time to make a sweater with regular yarn, she had started knitting with the nettle-fiber yarn, while Granny was working on a sweater of her own. Paige knew that must be annoying – Granny was used to knitting at her own pace, not waiting for someone else. But she had understood Paige's concern about making a regular sweater first, and the time that it could possibly waste for Paige. She didn't want to miss the deadline by a short time because she had stopped to make a plain sweater first.

**Thanks, I think**, she signed to Fawn, then realized that Fawn was not as human as she seemed here in this world. She might take that more literally than Paige meant it.

Fawn raised an eyebrow. "That, I believe, is what my husband refers to as sarcasm, yes?" She could see confirmation in Paige's guilty, apologetic glance. "Well, you are welcome. I know how bored you've been, and while this may not be exactly enjoyable for you, it will not only help you pass the time, but will also further your task."

Sheepishly, Paige nodded in acknowledgement. **It will. Though I may have to get Granny to visit if I run into problems with it.**

"Well, you certainly cannot call me. Golden Hinds have no need of skills like knitting, and I never really bothered to learn it once I came to live among humans," Fawn said. "Perhaps I should have," she mused, looking thoughtful.

**Don't… don't do that to yourself,** Paige signed, trying to keep her frustration from her face. She had wanted to say, don't start that, but she couldn't remember the sign for the word "start." **You've been so good to me… ** She paused for a long moment, but it was no good. She had to write the word "already" on a piece of paper and show it to Fawn.

She wanted to ask about Mr. Gold, but she hated how hard it was to converse with someone when she couldn't remember certain signs, and Fawn had said she didn't have much time. So she just asked, **What are your plans for today?**

"Well, Will's preschool teacher's birthday is today, and we parents are going to surprise her with a little party after their school day is over. I've been asked to bring the cupcakes, so I have to hurry home and do some baking. I think they just like that I make my cupcakes _and_ icing from scratch. Everyone else uses those boxed powders and plastic tubs they sell at the grocery store." Her nose wrinkled distastefully. "All those preservatives and unnecessary additives!" She shook her head. "It's a wonder anyone can stand to eat that junk!"

She smiled fondly at Paige, adding, "Well, I really am sorry to have to run off so soon, but I can't bake from here." She embraced Paige, and as she walked out, she added, "I know Aurelia will do well out of that incubator, Paige. Just think, you'll be holding her sometime today!"

Paige blinked back tears and smiled at the now-empty doorway. Then she pressed a hand to her head as the pain worsened.

* * *

><p>As she neared the nurse's station on her way out, Fawn noticed a disturbance. Mr. Gold was speaking quite forcefully to one of the nurses on duty.<p>

"Or do you mean to keep her here indefinitely? If there is no remaining injury, she should be released from your care. Unless there's something in those sedatives, which you claim she _needs_? Something that, I don't know, purposefully _prevents_ her from regaining her memories?"

The severe-looking nurse at the counter paled visibly. Gold hadn't shouted; in fact, he spoke that last sentence in a quieter voice. Quieter, but far more dangerous. "N-no, of course not," the nurse stammered. "It's just that she gets upset, even paranoid, so easily, and the tranquilizers –"

Gold cut her off. "Sedatives, even quite strong ones, can easily be prescribed to a patient who is _not_ in hospital. Although it may be that the tranquilizers you're using on her are _giving_ her this paranoia you speak of. Have you even bothered to try other methods of calming her?" At the look on the nurse's face, he chuckled, and it wasn't a very nice sound. "Of course not." Then he eyed the woman shrewdly, adding, "Well, I can assure you that I'll be speaking to the members of the hospital board. And I will be sure to tell them just how… _uncooperative_ you have been."

As he turned, the severe nurse cried, "Wait! Let me… let me just speak to her doctor. I'll… see what I can do about getting her released into your care." Fawn sympathized; no doubt the poor woman had visions of losing her job. And she also didn't doubt that Gold could easily make that happen. But under his pretense of anger, Fawn knew that he was in pain. A lot of pain. He truly loved Belle, and Paige had told Fawn about her encounter with Belle in a waiting room. It must be very hard on him to see Belle in that condition.

Suddenly, Fawn realized something. "Mr. Gold?" she called. In spite of the fact that she knew there was still good in him, she flinched slightly at his face as he turned. When he saw her, though, his furious expression softened. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Gold," she said, her cheeks flushing a bit. She knew she should have thought of this much sooner. It was human failing to forget what was important to others during a crisis, but she had always prided herself on being more than human, being better. Perhaps she had spent too much time among them, but she could hardly find it in herself to regret that. But even though she had sensed how upset Paige had been the past several days, she hadn't connected the dots.

His raised eyebrow was accompanied by an almost ironic expression. He probably wasn't accustomed to receiving genuine apologies.

"As far as I know, you haven't been told, and you should have been. I do apologize that we have failed to contact you. But Paige…"

His sudden concern proved that Paige was right about him. "Is she alright?" He bit off his words suddenly, as if not wanting Fawn to know just how worried he was about Paige. Fawn gave a small smile, saying, "She is much better now, but two weeks ago, she was thrown against a tree by an ifrit. She was preventing him from going after my son, though I admit that we have no idea as to what the ifrit's intentions were." She watched Gold's face pale, but before he could speak again, she continued. "For three days she was unconscious, and even when she woke, there was a lot of damage. Her arm was burned pretty badly where the ifrit touched her, and her right shoulder was dislocated. There was a very small crack in her skull from the impact, but the doctors believe it will heal completely without any difficulty. The worst thing was the damage to her brain. Not so much from the actual injury itself, but from the aftereffects."

Seeing the stricken look that came over his face, she hastened to add, "But now she can completely understand us when we talk, and she can choose her words without difficulty. She still has trouble with her sign language, though. There are many signs she still can't remember, though at first she couldn't remember anything. The doctors are confident it will all come back to her in time."

"What about the baby?" Gold asked, trying to pretend he wasn't anxious to hear the answer.

"Well, that's… complicated," Fawn replied. "Apparently, after realizing Paige was pregnant, the ifrits were upset that they had hurt her – something about seeing their own mother murdered right after they were born. So they came over to her, and could feel Aurelia's presence, and they strengthened her so she would have a better chance at surviving, and the ifrits let her suppress them so that the two girls they were possessing would be able to control their own bodies again."

Gold's face darkened with an angry knowledge, and Fawn could see that he knew more about this situation than he was letting on, but she didn't press him. He was in a strange mood right now, concerned for both Belle and Paige, and struggling with the darkness inside him.

"So when she came in, the doctors had to perform an emergency Cesarean section. Aurelia was only twenty-seven weeks along, but because of what the ifrits did, she's reacting more like a child born around thirty-two weeks. So she's doing quite well, really, and in fact, they're taking her out of the incubator today, in the hope that she will be able to regulate her body temperature on her own." Fawn paused for a moment. "Braden said that the operation saved Paige's life, and Aurelia's, too, but Paige…" Fawn stopped. This was another reason why she didn't like to stay long when she visited Paige. She cared deeply for the girl, but she didn't like the animosity Paige still felt toward Braden.

Her husband's cousin Vicki, and her family, had also become good friends of Fawn's, and though they weren't actually related to her, Fawn felt the same kind of kinship with them that she had also begun to feel with Paige. Braden knew Paige wouldn't be happy, but he had assumed she would understand that he could never have let them both die just because Paige was against the idea. So far, though, Paige hadn't forgiven him. Fawn hoped that time, and perhaps the emotions that went with becoming a mother, would soften Paige's heart.

"Where is she now?" Gold asked tersely. Though most humans wouldn't have noticed it, Fawn could see that he was ready to rush to Paige's side. She told him the room number and watched as he headed down the hall at a somewhat faster gait than normal. It was touching to see how much he cared.

* * *

><p>After spending a single night at the manor, Tristan and Andrew had headed for the Haunted Hollow. Tristan was following a map given to him by the squire of one of the kingdom's knights. It was the squire who had told Tristan the stories, and who claimed to have been there, or at least nearby, with his master. However, the two princes were not as accustomed to riding as long or far as a knight and his retinue, especially Andrew. So it was taking them much longer. At this rate, Tristan figured they wouldn't reach their destination until evening. But it was just as well, since they meant to go in there at night, anyway. Tristan wasn't sure why, but it seemed like every story he had heard about hauntings had happened at night.<p>

He could see how tired his brother was. Perhaps while Tristan started a fire and made some dinner with the supplies they had brought, Andrew could take a nap. After all, the boy was only seven.

His face set in grim determination, Tristan rode on. He was glad he had told his mother that they would be gone for four or five days. The first day, of course, he hadn't even considered heading for the Hollow, because they didn't even leave the castle until just after lunch. So that first night had been spent at the manor.

Even though he hadn't thought they would need more than about three days, not counting the day they left the castle, Tristan had decided to give them a cushion. Also, if anyone bothered to check up on the manor after they left, it would look more convincing if they spent more than just two nights there.

If they'd been able to make the trip in the amount of time the squire had suggested, they could have spent this afternoon and evening resting, and then maybe even gotten a few hours of sleep in the early part of the morning before heading back to the manor. But since they were traveling so much slower, they might have to camp near the Hollow the following day _and_ night, just to rest up for the journey back. Despite what his little brother might think of him, Tristan was not foolish enough to think they could safely travel through the night, or that he could find the necessary landmarks in the silvery moonlight that could distort even the most familiar places.

* * *

><p>When Mr. Gold peered into the hospital room, he couldn't tell if Paige was awake. She was lying on the hospital bed, with her face turned away. So he came in slowly, trying not to make too much noise with his cane. When he saw all the other bouquets and balloons, and even a few potted plants, he frowned. It hadn't occurred to him to stop at the gift shop and buy her anything.<p>

As he got closer, Paige turned her head slowly. Her face was pale and she looked tired, and he could tell she was both surprised and pleased to see him. But Gold thought he saw a hint of pain on her face.

"How are you, dove?" he asked softly, probing. If she was in pain, he wanted to know what he could do to help.

**Tired**, she signed. She smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes, and faded quickly. She met his gaze for a moment, then looked away. **It's mostly just these… ongoing headaches. **The sign for the word "lingering" wouldn't come to her.

"What's really the matter, dove?" When she just shook her head dismissively, he said, "Please, Paige. Tell me."

It was the fact that he was asking and not commanding that convinced her to answer him. But instead of signing, she folded the covers back to mid-thigh level and started pulling up her hospital gown. Before the hem of it was freed, the covers hand inched up a little, but not nearly high enough to hide the fact that she wasn't wearing any panties. She kept pulling the gown up until the healing wound on her lower stomach was visible. It still looked a bit tender, but there were no longer any stitches in it, and it apparently no longer needed to be bandaged constantly.

When he looked back into Paige's eyes, he saw that a single tear had escaped, leaving a damp trail across her right cheek. "Oh, Paige," he said. He sensed that it wasn't any physical pain that had her this upset, and when she moved her hands again, he discovered he was right.

**They cut her out of me! I was… **She paused for a moment, wanting to say "unconscious," but instead continued, **not awake, and you weren't here, and neither was Mike, and Dr. Solano made the call. But he knew I didn't want that!** She paused for a long moment. **They've… ruined me.** She had wanted to use the term "mutilated," but she couldn't remember the sign for that.

"I was under the impression that they saved your life, Paige. And not only yours, but your daughter's as well. _Our_ daughter." Mr. Gold tried to keep his voice neutral, but a hint of disapproval leaked through.

**Yes, but any… any other children I have must be born the same way! They'll have to… to slice me open and haul the child out like a sack of grain, every single time! I can no longer bear children as a woman should. As a woman is born to.** Crying, Paige waited for him to tell her she was being silly, or to lecture her further about how this procedure had saved two lives, but he simply handed her a tissue. She gave him a grateful look before wiping the tears from her face. He handed her another so she could blow her nose.

As he listened to Paige's ragged breathing, Gold gently touched the edge of the half-healed scar. "I, uh… I could heal this for you, Paige," he said. "Both the cut in your flesh and the cut in your womb. And your future children could be born in a more natural fashion." He met her eyes and saw the hope on her face, mingled with a hint of suspicion.

**What if I don't want to… to… pay for your services?** Though her mood was teasing, she was also frustrated by her inability to sign everything she wanted to.

His face a strange combination of grave and amused, Gold asked, "Were you looking for the word 'purchase,' or 'buy,' dove?"

**The first one you said.**

"Purchase," Gold repeated, making the sign for her as he spoke. When Paige looked at him with a surprised and grateful expression, he changed the subject. "Anyway, you needn't purchase my services. As you may recall, before I left for New York, I asked a favor of you. The chalk, from Johnson? You placed that exactly where I asked, and this would be payment for that. Also, our, ah… _activities_ that night…" He paused, and his expression showed Paige that he was still feeling guilty over having hurt her. But before she could sign again, he smiled, though he still looked at her like he expected her to hate him. "For that, dove, a present. Do you have a stroller for the baby yet?" When Paige just shook her head, he smiled more genuinely and said, "Then I'll have one sent over here. The kind that doubles as a car seat, I think, would be the most practical."

When she raised her hands, he quickly added, "I've told you before, dove, it's how I operate. _I_ caused the injuries that night, and healing them was a courtesy, not a payment." With a self-deprecating smile, he went on. "I'm not sure _anything_ could be an adequate payment for what I put you through that night."

After he finished speaking, Paige signed, **Actually, I was just going to say thank you. And I'm not going to argue with you about that night any more. You could have hurt me far worse without realizing it – but you caught yourself. And you didn't do it on purpose. So unless you're going to… to… to try to tell me that you came to my house that night **_**intending**_** to choke me, I don't want to hear you apologizing or blaming yourself again, okay?**

Smoothing her mussed hair, Gold said softly, "I'll try, dove, but I can't stop seeing your face when…" He couldn't continue, and he seemed close to tears. Paige reached up and ran her fingers through his hair before brushing his cheek with her fingertips.

She smiled and signed, **Do you think we could still meet in our dreams sometimes? Just to talk? As friends, I mean. I missed you while you were with Belle, before she… I mean, I don't want to… to never see you again just because Mike or Belle, or hopefully both, have come back to us. You mean a lot to me, you know.**

Mr. Gold returned Paige's smile. "I'd like that, dove," he whispered.

Paige could see that he was surprised and touched by her words, but instead of signing again, she clasped one of his hands in her own. After a moment, though, she took her hand back to inquire, **Weren't you going to heal me, or was that all empty talk?** The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to give him a sternly disapproving look, and her eyes danced with a humor she could not hide. But she knew that, even if she were a consummate actress, he would still have sensed that she was just teasing him.

"Oh, I will, dove." Though he was smiling, his eyes were grave. "But first, I just want to know – did _you_ know? That I was okay? I imagine my phone call alarmed you."

Paige's expression turned serious. **I came for you. I left the baby shower and… and… went straight to your shop. And there was a strange woman in there, and I sensed danger from her. She was trying to get through the doorway into the back room, and I didn't see anyone else nearby. So I went into the alley, alongside that door, and I know my magic is almost non-existent, but I tried. I used every ounce of power in me to will that barrier to stand. I don't know if it even helped, but I couldn't stand by and let her just waltz right in and hurt you. Or… or kill you. **Paige licked her lips, looking almost nervous. **I, well, I guess I collapsed when the woman finally got through the barrier, because when I came to, I… I… **She frowned in frustration and chose a different word. **I rushed around, and I saw you in the shop. With a man – your son.** Her eyes showed how glad she was that he had found his son. **So yes, I knew you were alright.**

Gold let out a soft sigh, looking thoughtful and a little surprised. "So that's why she didn't take down the spell as quickly as she could have," he murmured to himself. When Paige asked him what he'd said, he replied, "Even if you only held her up for a minute or two, dove, that was enough. It was a near thing, and if you hadn't balked her, even slightly, it might have been too late. I think you saved my life, dove." He tried to say that he would consider this the payment for her second deal, that he would remove the mark on her left breast. But something prevented him from saying that. Some instinct wouldn't let him consider her obligation paid, so he kept quiet, hoping something else would come up. But for now, he would heal the incision on her stomach.

But just as he reached out to touch the wound, he sensed someone coming, so he pulled the blanket up to cover Paige's exposed groin. He didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Doctors Whale and Solano appeared in the doorway. They had been talking, but they stopped as they reached the door. As they entered, they noticed Mr. Gold, and Whale stopped in his tracks. "What are _you_ doing in here, Gold?"

With a rather unpleasant smirk, Gold replied, "Well, after all, this young lady _is_ my ward, according to the town council of Storybrooke. I would be remiss to not even visit her. Just as her primary care physician here would be remiss to not _inform_ me that she was brought in." He smiled at Whale, but it was a grim smile, and his eyes seemed to hold a threat.

Looking rather pale, Dr. Whale replied. "I… I assumed her family would have told you. I mean, her extended family."

Gold was about to respond to that when Paige put her hand on his arm. When he looked at her, she smiled and shook her head. **It's not worth it. Please, just heal me?**

"Very well, dove," he demurred, shooting another quick glare in Whale's direction.

Whale seemed surprised to realize that Paige was very nearly exposed. "What are you doing to her?"

With a superior and self-satisfied air, Gold said, "I'm going to do what you cannot. I am going to heal her incision completely, so there will be no scar, and therefore no future risk for natural childbirth."

Eyeing Gold in a very unfriendly manner, Whale said, "You don't have to do this, Paige. You don't have to make any more deals with him."

**It's my… my… **Paige's mouth tightened and she gave a soft snort of irritation. **It's my choice, and my body. And I want to have children normally, instead of being… sliced open every time.**

Dr. Solano glanced at Gold before translating for Whale. He knew that Gold understood sign language, but he assumed that Gold had chosen not to translate so that Whale would have no reason to suspect that Paige's words were being skewed.

"Are you sure that's worth it? This man… the prices he charges…" Whale broke off, and Paige wondered if he was so angry he couldn't speak, or if he was trying to be sensitive to the fact that she considered Gold a friend.

"I can assure you, Doctor, that I am not charging any price for this. As a matter of fact, Paige has recently done _me_ a favor, for which I still owe her some form of payment. _This_ is the payment she and I have agreed upon," Gold said, sounding just a touch smarmy.

Solano looked down for a moment, not quite sure if he believed Gold, then said, "Well, so long as her 'price' will not put her back into this same situation." At Gold's cocked eyebrow, he added, "Paige has been truthful about her daughter's father with many, if not all, of the people she is close to. And perhaps even those she is not as close to. At any rate, my point is that it's not healthy for a woman's body to go from one pregnancy directly into another. But there's something else that concerns me, too. I don't know the details of what went on between you two, or what may still be going on, and I have only my instincts to rely on here, but those instincts tell me that your, ah, _relationship_ with my patient is what has caused her so much heartache with my wife's cousin."

Now it was Paige's turn to raise an eyebrow. Solano explained further. "I was never told exactly why Mike went off on his own, but especially once I knew he was not your child's father, I had a pretty good idea."

Paige licked her lips. She was still not pleased with Dr. Solano, but he had stood here and defended her even after she was so rude to him. Even though she didn't need him to defend her, she couldn't ignore his kindness. So she raised her hands to sign, **Thank you, Braden. But we're not – I mean, Belle had come back to him, and I could never… never… I could never ruin what they have. So that kind of thing has stopped, and we're just friends now.**

Before Solano could respond, Gold brushed a tear from Paige's cheek and added, "And we're both still hoping that young Michael will come to his senses, and I won't be the cause of destroying that hope."

When he saw the tender look on Gold's face as the older man regarded Paige, Solano suddenly saw that Paige was right. There was still a good man in there somewhere, and he truly did care for Paige. But suddenly, a puff of purplish mist materialized over Paige's abdomen, and when it faded, there was no sign of the healing wound, not even the slightest hint of a scar. It was as if the incision had never been made.

"Thank you, Mr. Gold," Solano said, so softly that it almost went unheard. Gold nodded his acknowledgment, and was about to say something when Paige suddenly gave a soft hiss and clutched at her head.

"Damn those headaches," Whale said, pressing one of Paige's eyelids back to check her pupils. "I can't find anything wrong, but they just won't stop." To Paige, he said, "Can you hear me? Are they getting worse?"

When Paige nodded, Gold pushed Whale aside and held his hands alongside Paige's head, hovering over her ears, but not touching her. The air around her head seemed to waver and shimmer, almost like water. "Got it," Gold said, his voice a bit terse from the strain of what he was doing. He slowly pulled his hands up toward the ceiling, and there seemed to be some resistance. As he finally worked his hands past her face, an ugly mass seemed to pass through her cheekbone, suspended between Gold's palms.

His arms starting to tremble, Gold asked, "Where should I put this?" His voice was thick with effort.

Without a word, Whale grabbed the rectangular plastic bucket that most hospitals give to their patients and held it under Gold's hands. With a sigh of relief, Gold relaxed his arms and hands, and the mass fell into the bucket with a wet sort of splat. The fluid that splashed around it was blood.

"A clot!" Whale exclaimed. "That never showed up on any of her scans, but… it's so big!" It didn't look all that big to Gold and Solano, but then again, they both realized that blood vessels aren't very large, either, and it wouldn't take much to block them.

A glance at Paige showed her breathing heavily, with her eyes closed and a look of blissful relief on her face. With a grudging tone in his voice, Whale said, "That clot was causing her headaches, and probably her difficulty with sign language. If it hadn't been removed… she could have died. Of course, it's also possible that it would have broken up and gradually dissipated on its own, but… but even if that had happened, it would probably have caused her permanent brain damage before it was all said and done." He frowned, and without saying anything further, took the bucket out of the room to run some tests on the clot before disposing of it.

Solano gave Gold a meaningful glance, but just then Paige opened her eyes, smiling. **The pain – it's gone!**

"I don't know if you heard us talking, Paige," Solano said, still frowning thoughtfully at Gold, "but you had a rather large blood clot, which wasn't showing up on Doctor Whale's scans. If Mr. Gold hadn't removed it, you might not have survived, and even if you had, there would likely have been permanent brain damage." He didn't say it, but in spite of the older man's denial, Solano was worried about Gold's price.

But Gold, looking relieved, spoke softly to Paige. "A life for a life, eh, dearie?" Paige smiled happily and nodded, and Gold smiled back, knowing that she had caught his meaning. This was perfect for him – she still owed him for their second deal, but he had been able to repay her for trying to slow the inevitable confrontation with Cora. Of course, he was also glad that she was alive and well, as was their baby.

As if reading Gold's thoughts, Solano chimed in, "By the way, Paige, Mr. Gold, your daughter – she's been out of the incubator all morning, and so far she has kept her temperature up on her own. Paige – would you like to hold her?"

Paige turned to Solano as he spoke, her whole being lighting up at the thought of finally holding her baby.

* * *

><p>Tristan poked at the flames with a long stick, trying to keep them from dying down too much. He had eaten nearly an hour ago, and his brother's plate of food was sitting near the fire, keeping warm. He hoped Andrew would wake up on his own, but it was just getting to be fully dark, so Tristan would have to wake his little brother soon.<p>

But it was all so relaxing – the fire was warm, his belly was full, and he could stretch his legs out on the ground, which didn't rock under him like a horse. He could hear both horses nearby, grazing contentedly. They had finished the first of the feedbags Tristan had brought along, and the boy worried that he hadn't brought enough feed. But if he and Andrew had to wait until the day after tomorrow to head back, the horses should find plenty of grazing to keep them content for tomorrow. As he lay there worrying, the crackling of the fire was almost hypnotic, and before Tristan knew it, he was asleep, as well.

* * *

><p>When Andrew woke, it was dark out. The fire was burnt down to nearly the embers, and a plate of food sat nearby, looking slightly congealed and not overly appetizing. But he was so hungry, he ate it anyway. At least it still tasted good As he ate, he picked up some of the wood his brother had piled nearby and threw it onto the dying fire, stoking it back to life.<p>

Once the flames were dancing merrily again, Andrew could see better, and he found Tristan sleeping, propped up against a nearby stump. He looked peaceful, but Andrew didn't want to be awake by himself in this darkness, not knowing how close they were to the Haunted Hollow. So he timidly shook his brother's shoulder.

"I didn't!" Tristan exclaimed as he woke, startled out of some dream. "Wait… what?" He looked around wildly, clearly surprised to find himself by a campfire in a dark forest. Then he remembered where they were, and why. "Andrew!" His glance took in his brother's anxious face, the now-empty plate, and the much-diminished supply of wood he had gathered earlier. He reddened, and hoped it wouldn't show in the firelight. He hadn't meant to fall asleep.

Gruffly, Tristan said, "I'll be right back, Andrew."

"No!" the younger boy whined. "Don't leave me alone. What if the ghost gets me?"

Tristan sighed heavily. "We are not in the Hollow yet, and the ghost is stuck there, so you will be safe here. I will be but a few moments, no more." He looked into his brother's eyes and noted the concern still in them. "I must relieve myself, and get my bearings. The fire's too bright to check the stars from here. Truly, brother, I will not be long."

Taking a deep breath to draw up his courage, Andrew bravely said, "Okay." Both boys pretended not to notice the quaver in his voice.

Once his business was taken care of, Tristan found a place where the branches overhead were thin enough that he could see the stars, but what he saw made him gape. "No," he said to himself. "I cannot have slept the night through!"

To verify it, he climbed partway up a nearby tree. Sure enough, the eastern sky was just beginning to show a hint of paleness. No light was blooming yet, for the sunrise was still a good two hours away, maybe three, but by his estimate, it was probably between three and four in the morning.

He rushed back to the campfire, ignoring the startled look in his brother's eyes. "We've nearly slept the night through!" he cried. "We shall only have a few hours, maybe less. Hurry, help me with the fire."

Though Tristan had spoken of haste, the boys banked the fire carefully so that it would not go out, but would also not set anything nearby on fire. It would make things easier when they got back. They checked to make sure the horses had plenty of grass to graze while they were gone. Even though they didn't intend to be long, their father's knights had trained them to always make sure the horses would not go hungry, even if they were not going to be gone for very long. As one grizzled old knight had put it, intention means very little – prepare for the worst-case scenario, and then your surprises are more likely to be pleasant ones.

Then Tristan led the way to the Haunted Hollow.

* * *

><p>Paige's face was radiant as she stared down at her tiny daughter. There were tears in her eyes, and for a long moment she spared no attention for anyone else in the room. She kept tracing Aurelia's delicate features with her fingertip, watching the baby's reaction to her touch.<p>

When Mr. Gold stepped closer, Paige looked up and smiled at him. He held out his arms and said, "May I, dove?"

Nodding, Paige gently shifted the baby so Gold could take her carefully. As he lifted the infant out of Paige's arms, the new mother looked a little upset. She raised her hands to sign, **Be careful with her head!**

At almost the same moment, Dr. Solano said, "Watch the back of her head, there, Mr. Gold."

Gold shook his head. "I _do_ know what I'm doing. I've done this before," he said wryly. He smirked as he added, "Of course, it's been a few hundred years, give or take, but holding a babe made from your own flesh and blood – well, it's not something a man forgets how to do."

Paige watched him, and the way his whole face lit up warmed her heart. She found it oddly adorable to watch his stance shift to accommodate the babe in his arms, to see the same love-struck look in his eyes that she knew was mirrored in her own. But as sweet as this moment was, there was one thing that could make it better. Michael.

If this were Mike's baby, if her one true love was the one she was watching right now, this moment would be absolutely perfect. She loved Mr. Gold deeply, but in a different way than she loved Mike. She hoped to share a moment like this with Mike someday, if he ever came back to her. Although it wouldn't be quite the same, since it wouldn't be her first child, it would still be a very precious moment.

Suddenly realizing it, Paige signed, **You haven't even asked her name**.

"Everyone's been saying it, dove," he teased. "Aurelia." He gazed down at the infant for a long moment, then raised his eyes to Paige's again. "It's a lovely name."

**Her full name is Aurelia Kaltrina. The first name means 'golden,' and the middle name means 'blue girl.' She'll most likely be called Lia for short.**

Gold managed to both smile fondly and make a face at the same time. "So she's 'Golden Blue Girl,' eh? I like that. But Aurelia is much prettier than Lia."

**Oh, I agree. When I picked the name out, I never even thought of nicknames, because I don't think she needs one. But some people don't feel that way about it.** She looked down, blushing slightly. **And I'm sorry I never discussed her name with you.**

"I wouldn't have expected you to, dove," Gold said softly, shifting the baby so he could lift Paige's chin with one hand. "You've said you want me to be part of her life, but not as her father, and I understand your decision. And if I'm not to be the father, then I have no say in the name." He smiled gently at Paige. "But I like it. Very much."

**I didn't discuss her name with Mike, either. He's… well, he's not really been around much, lately.** Her face was sad as she admitted that, then she realized something. **Hey, I haven't had to choose any different words! I… I think I remember everything!**

"Probably that blood clot Mr. Gold removed," Solano remarked, and Paige was startled. She had forgotten that he was in the room.

**Oh, right,** she signed. With the excitement of holding Aurelia for the first time, she had forgotten about that.

Almost regretfully, Gold said, "I should be getting back to Belle, soon. I'm having her released from this place so she can, perhaps, truly get better. And, I hope, remember herself." But he made no move to give up the baby just yet.

Intentionally mimicking his phrasing from earlier, Paige signed, **I imagine you alarmed **_**her**_** with a phone call, as well. Was today the first time you've been to see her since then?**

Looking a bit embarrassed, Gold said, "Yeah."

Paige shook her head, but fondly. **You shouldn't have waited so long. I know she – she doesn't recognize you right now, but you still worried her, and then left her not knowing what happened. And I think she's had more than she can stand of not knowing.**

"Don't you think I'm aware of that, dove?" Gold asked, his voice thick with emotion.

**Of course you are. I'm sorry. I just… I shouldn't have said anything.** Gold gave her a grateful look, but didn't reply, and Paige went on. **About that phone call – thank you. For what you said about wishing you hadn't tempted me, and that you hope you haven't ruined my chances with my true love. But… Well, I hope Mike comes back to me, I really do. I don't want to live without him. But if he doesn't – I have a beautiful daughter to take care of, and I'll do whatever I have to so that she can have a good life. Even if that means moving on without Mike. And I want you to know that I could **_**never**_** regret any circumstance that brought Aurelia into my life. And please, I don't want you to regret it, either. If we hadn't… been together, if I hadn't gotten to know you, we wouldn't be friends, and now that we are, I wouldn't take it back for the world. Look at this precious little girl we made, and don't ever regret a second of it. I don't.** She reached out to touch Aurelia's tiny fingers.

Looking deeply into her eyes, Gold asked, "Are you _sure_ about that, dove?"

Paige bit her lip and smiled wryly. **I won't try to tell you that there wasn't a time when I felt very differently about what we were doing. But you knew, even then, that I was in denial. Now that I can accept the feelings I have for you, including the lust, I don't regret it at all. I do wish that Mike could be more understanding about it, but that's his regret, not mine. I can't control how he reacts to the history you and I have between us.**

"Overreacts, is more like it," Gold muttered.

Paige hugged him, baby and all. When she pulled back, she signed, **Thank you.** After getting a last, good look at him holding their daughter, she added, **Now, like you said, you should get back to Belle. She needs you. I'm sorry the cup didn't work, but if anyone can find a way to restore her memories, it's you. And if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know.**

Gold smiled and shifted the baby to hand her back. "When she does, I hope she can forgive you, Paige. I would very much like to see you and Belle as friends."

**Me, too,** Paige signed before reaching for her daughter.

The baby was getting fussy, and Dr. Solano looked at the clock. "It's time for a feeding," he announced. "Would you like to try it, Paige?"

Smiling, Paige nodded. Gold watched as Solano talked her through the process, and smirked at the unashamed way she opened the front of her hospital gown. He knew maternal instinct had some effect on this sort of thing, but he liked to think that he'd had a part in curing her of her extreme modesty. It wasn't that he wanted her to feel comfortable running around naked in front of just anyone, and he knew that she didn't, but there were situations which called for a certain measure of immodesty, like breastfeeding, and sex. His smirk deepened at that last thought.

He leaned over to place a gentle kiss on Paige's forehead, and another on the side of Aurelia's head. The baby was suckling strongly at Paige's breast, and perhaps by chance, Paige was feeding her from the left breast. Gold gave his mark an almost admiring glance. He still wasn't sure what the circumstances would be, but that favor of hers was going to come in handy one day. He rather got the feeling, though, that it could be of extreme importance. He said goodbye and left, hoping Belle wouldn't be too upset by his long absence. In fact, he decided to check on her first. Then he could go back to the nurse's desk to make sure her release was going through.

* * *

><p>Tristan and Andrew crept warily into the center of the clearing. It was much larger than Tristan had expected it would be – probably about 70 yards at its widest point, and it was roughly oval-shaped – not a perfect circle, as the squire had suggested.<p>

Also, the young man had claimed that nothing grew here except sickly yellow grass. Though the light of the rising, full moon robbed the world of most colors, the grass didn't seem yellow. It was somewhat sparse, and rather paler than normal grass, but even in daylight, he doubted it would be "as yellow as a Wolf's eye." Could they have the wrong place?

But the prickly feeling down Tristan's back told him otherwise, and though the full moon had risen while they made their way to the clearing, its light had an almost sickly cast to it. It should be bright and silvery, but instead it seemed somehow dulled, as if moonlight could gather a film of tarnish like his mother's silverware.

Just as he opened his mouth to tell Andrew to stay close, his brother, behind him, cried out in surprise. Tristan whirled, shocked to see that his brother was on the ground, nearly five feet away from him. Just a moment ago, the boy's hand had been clutching the back of Tristan's shirt.

Andrew screamed, and Tristan threw himself over to where his brother lay. "What is it? What happened?"

"I don't know," the seven-year-old sobbed. "I was holding on to you, and then someone grabbed _my_ shirt and pulled, and my feet went up over my head, and my arm hurts!"

Tristan pushed up his brother's sleeve and was shocked to find long, bloody scratches on the boy's arm. How could he have gotten those here in the middle of the clearing? The blood was only just starting to flow, so it was very clear that these had happened when Andrew was seemingly snatched away like that.

Staring wildly around the clearing, which seemed dim in spite of the full moon that now stood a hair's breadth above the tree line, Tristan thought he heard voices. "Who's there?" he called sharply. Perhaps that squire was having some fun with them. Perhaps the haunting was a prank, and there were other boys here who were just trying to scare them.

The responding voice was low and threatening, and Tristan could not make out what it said.

Andrew whimpered. "He said get out! We should _go_, Tristan! I want to go _home_!"

"Who is that?" Tristan's voice was angry, but it was only a way of covering up his fear.

The strange voice growled low again, and this time Tristan caught the word, "die." At least, that's what it sounded like to him. Though he was trying to act tough, his breath came in shallow pants.

"Andrew," he said, trying to stop the shaking in his voice, "we should probably leave now." He reached for his brother's hand and froze. There, near the edge of the clearing, but definitely still inside the clearing, stood the vague figure of a man. Though the moon was behind him, he cast no shadow over the ground! Tristan trembled, never noticing the tears running down his face. The figure began to move toward the two boys, and it did not move like a man. It seemed to glide smoothly above the struggling grass, but Tristan wasn't close enough to see whether the grass was disturbed by the figure's passage, and he didn't want to get that close.

Groping for Andrew's hand, Tristan started backing away, watching the figure's slow, inexorable approach. He had only a brief second to wonder if they could reach the edge of the clearing in time, when something grabbed both boys from behind. They screamed in terror, the sound piercing the night. As he shrieked, Tristan noticed that the stalking figure seemed to shred into wisps of mist.

* * *

><p><strong>I feel great,<strong> Paige insisted. Dr. Solano translated for Dr. Whale.

"Good," Whale said. "I'm still going to keep you overnight for observation, though. You had a large blood clot in your brain – you're lucky you didn't have a stroke. I just want to make sure there are no lingering side effects." Whale stood, adding, "It's very unlikely that you'll have any further symptoms, but if you do, be sure to tell me or one of the nurses if anything happens – anything at all." Whale made a notation on her chart and left the room.

As the door closed behind Whale, Dr. Solano smiled and said, "And it may not be what you want to hear, but try to think of it as good news. Aurelia can keep up her own body temperature now, and her weight is going up rapidly. Today she weighed in at just over four pounds. As long as everything continues to go well, and her weight keeps going up, I'll most likely release her in about a week."

**You mean I have to go home without her?** Paige looked crestfallen. **What about her nighttime feedings?**

"I'm sure you'll be spending most of your days here, so the nurses can pump some extra milk for overnight. If necessary, we'll supplement the pumped milk with some formula." Solano smiled reassuringly. "Just think, in about a week's time, you should have your little girl at home with you. Maybe even less. I'd really like to see her reach about six pounds before I let her go home, and at the rate she's going, it might only take her a few days."

Biting her lip, Paige signed, **It's not that I'm ungrateful at the thought of taking her home so soon, but Fawn looked it up on the internet, and she said most babies born this early are kept in the hospital until right around their due date, but that would be quite a few weeks away. I'm glad, but at the same time… are you sure it's not too soon?**

With a wry chuckle, Solano said, "Not at all. Aurelia may have been born at only twenty-seven weeks, but she's reacting like a baby born at about thirty-one to thirty-two weeks, which changes a lot. Actually, in some respects, she's even healthier than a thirty-two week preemie. She's meeting all the milestones I want her to meet before she leaves here, and faster than I ever expected. The only thing left now is to get her weight up. And honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if she manages that in two or three days, but just in case, I'm saying a week before I can release her."

There were tears in Paige's eyes. She hated the thought of leaving Aurelia here by herself. Even though she hadn't done it yet, she already felt guilty about it.

Patting her on the shoulder, Solano said, "I'll call Dr. Horne. Unless you'd rather talk to someone on our staff?"

**About what?**

"Post-partum depression is a normal reaction, and so are feelings of misplaced guilt, _especially_ for preemies or other babies with health issues, that have to spend their first weeks in a hospital. We have staff members who can talk you through it, but personally, I think Dr. Horne would be the best option for you."

Paige made a face as if she didn't know what he was talking about, then acknowledged to herself that she was feeling very upset at the thought of leaving her daughter here alone. **Yes, Dr. Horne would be… the best person to call, I think.**

* * *

><p>"What are you boys doing out here?" roared King Nigel. The boys were both terrified and relieved to see that they had been grabbed by their own father. "Betrayer's beard!"<p>

Tristan was shocked. Ordinarily, their father was very careful not to curse in front of them, especially Andrew. He said, "But Father – you were away. How did you come here? How did you know _we_ were here?"

Pulling each boy along by one wrist, Nigel seemed angered by the question. "How, indeed. You told your mother you'd be gone four or five days. It's been over a week, and when a knight checked the manor, it looked like you had only camped there the first night. Where have you been?"

Gasping, Tristan sputtered, "But Father! We've just been here, and we were only at the manor just last night! We rode here all day, and then we fell asleep by the fire. We woke well after midnight and came straight into the Hollow. And Father, it really _is_ haunted!"

Nigel stopped short and pulled Tristan face to face with himself. "Son, you expect me to believe you've only been gone for two nights? That's utterly ridiculous! Your mother has been worried sick about you, and she sent for me to come and find you. And I'll have you know that I was not able to find that rogue Wolf in the short time I had, thanks to you two." He took a moment to try to calm himself. When he felt a little better, he added, "Do you know what a lone Wolf, outcast from the pack, does? They come near some of our outlying farms. They kill the livestock, or the people, if they can. Right now a Wolf is out there preying on our kingdom. A Wolf I could have killed if you had more sense!"

"But Father, it's true," Andrew said softly. "We really have not been gone more than two nights, I swear it! And the voices… something in here wants to hurt us, I can feel it!"

Nigel gave a growl of frustration and dropped both boys' wrists. They were making him so angry that he was afraid he might hurt his sons by accident if he didn't. "Come on, boys. And when I go back out after that Wolf, I think you need to come along with me, so I can keep my eye on you."

Tristan and Nigel looked at each other solemnly. Tristan did not much care for hunting, and while Andrew did like ordinary hunting, and even boar hunting, this sounded a little too scary for him. Their exchanged glance said, without words, that they hoped their mother would talk him out of it.

As they neared the edge of the clearing, they heard a wind from behind them. But before they could look back, a large, heavy stick thunked against a tree on the edge. Their father had only just walked around that tree – if he had been just a moment slower, that stick would have hit Nigel! The boys shared another glance, and then looked up at the stick. Andrew couldn't reach it, so Tristan struggled with it. When he finally pulled it out, the boys could see that it had once been a spear, but the metal spearhead had rusted away, leaving reddish-brown stains on the tip. And carved into the shaft was a strange symbol.

Andrew looked perturbed as he regarded it. "This was just in my lessons. Well, almost. This one is a little different, but it looks an awful lot like King Rolph's crest!"

Tristan paled. "You're right. It probably was… that king from all those years ago!"

The boys looked back, and saw the wispy figure again. It looked angry, and they thought they could make out a crown on its head. They ran between the trees that stood like sentinels, keeping the ghost penned in the clearing. They clamored at their father, but he told them that there were many battles fought here at that time period – both against ogres and against Wolfs. Finding a spear from the old kingdom should come as no surprise, and it was very clear he didn't believe that it had been thrown at them. When they tried to insist that they had seen the ghost of the king, their father stopped suddenly.

"Rubbish. There are no such things as ghosts! You are letting your imaginations get the best of you." Nigel sighed. "If you paid attention in your history lessons, you would know that the story you've heard is utter drivel. The king of that time, whose name is no longer known to us, never came this close to the border. His son was sickly, and there was worry that he might need to provide another heir. Fortunately, the boy grew out of it. But that king was killed by a bad fall from his horse, not by Wolfs, and certainly not by this sorcerer you speak of. And I'll have you know that the sorcerer truly _was_ the king's friend. But to try to stop the ogres, the man dabbled in magic that was much too dark. If you ask me, that king would have been smart to execute the sorcerer, friend or no. Now, we are going home, and neither one of you is going to sit comfortable for a week!"

Another gust of wind blew through the clearing that was just behind them – but only through the clearing. The boys looked back, terrified, but this time there was nothing to see. Except for the moon, now well above the tree line at the far edge of the clearing. Then Tristan realized that the moon, which had been full when they went in, was now only a waning half-moon. Terrified, he vowed to himself that he would never take his brother on any more crazy adventures.

* * *

><p>Noah sat on the edge of his bed, staring at nothing.<p>

"What is it, my love?" Fawn asked.

He sighed. "I've been thinking about my brother. You know, there was this one time when we snuck out, and went to the Haunted Hollow. My father swore up and down that ghosts aren't real, but I saw one. It… it threw an ancient spear at my father." He paused, thinking. "What really happened to the king who was on the throne when Wolfs were created? Andrew told me what your sister told him, when he was trying to hunt down all Wolfs. And with what my father said – I just want to know the truth."

Fawn blinked. Humans tended to think strangely sometimes, but she had learned it was best just to go with the flow. "The king and the sorcerer were great friends. And it is true that the sorcerer attempted to use magic he didn't understand. Though he normally stayed where it was safer, the king came out when it became clear that the Wolfs were not going to die off, as was intended. In that clearing, his horse was killed, and he fell to the Wolfs. The sorcerer saw it happen, and in his grief and rage, he expended all of his magic in one fell enchantment. It claimed his life, and that of all the Wolfs in the clearing. Since then, no trees or brush grow there, and as you surely saw for yourself, even the grass does not grow easily."

"But is it really haunted? Or was I just imagining things?"

Fawn said, "As for spirits, I cannot say. My sisters and I have never ventured _into_ the clearing."

"But you Golden Hinds know all about nature, right?" asked Noah. "I mean, are hauntings in general really real?"

"Nature is something we know very well. But… in this world, there is a term – supernatural. That which is above or beyond the natural. Hauntings are like that. In a sense, they are natural occurrences, and yet, it is not a natural thing for a spirit to linger in this world. Once the body is dead, the spirit moves on to where spirits belong."

"And where is that?" Noah asked curiously.

Fawn chuckled. "Golden Hinds may be mostly immortal, and we may know much, but no one can know everything. Even the Dark One cannot see _all_ of the future, or all of the answers. I believe that the spirits of the living are gathered up to a place where they can continue their journey. There is so much to learn and do that a single mortal life, no matter how long, cannot be enough. Even for a Golden Hind. We spend our lives focusing on Nature and her children, but there is much knowledge that remains mysterious to us." She paused a moment. "But that is only my belief, husband. I do not know the truth." After another, longer moment, she asked, "Why do you ask about this?"

"No reason," Noah replied, turning to face his wife. "I've just been thinking about my brother a lot lately. And I know that he isn't the one buried in Dr. Hopper's place, but… that doesn't mean he's okay. From something Paige said, I think even she knows that." He sighed. "I don't think he's ever been gone this long before. I'm just… really worried about him."

Fawn stroked her husband's hair, and kissed him. He turned into her, wrapping one arm around her and rolling her onto her back on the bed. She knew he was still upset, but she had seen before that her husband sometimes turned to sex when he was troubled. She didn't know if other humans did the same, and it seemed odd to her – but then again, humans also engaged in purely recreational sex, so perhaps this sort of thing was normal. Then he kissed her neck in that certain way he had, and her idle thoughts were chased away.

* * *

><p>Hearing the sound of shoes on the pavement, Gold turned. When he saw Lacey, his heart sank. It was just another reminder of what he had lost. "Lacey," he said, greeting her. Acknowledging that she was no longer the woman she had been.<p>

She looked at him, and looked at the ground by his car. "So it is… true, then. What they say about you." She sounded upset, and he couldn't blame her. The man on the ground moaned softly.

"Yes," he said tersely. "It's all true."

She walked toward him, saying "You are… you are _not_ who I thought you were." It felt like the knife in his heart twisted viciously, to hear the same words Belle had used, so long ago. Then she chuckled, adding, "And I'm glad."

He stared at her, incredulous.

"You really _are_ as dark as people say," she said, and from her tone of voice and her body language, it was obvious that she was intrigued.

Gold continued to stare at her for a moment, almost in disbelief. Lacey actually _liked_ the darkness in him? He turned back to the man on the ground, but before he went back to work on him, Gold turned back again and told her something he had once told Belle, a long time ago. "Darker, dearie. _Much_ darker."

He beat the man even harder, knowing that Lacey was watching, that she was enjoying this. A tiny part of him wanted to weep, but he pushed it down and ignored it. He hadn't done anything like this in a very long time, and in a way, it was nice to give in to his first instincts. And now, he had someone who actually liked him this way. It was a novel experience, and he didn't intend to let anything get in the way of enjoying it.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Lacey." As far as I can tell, this episode happens the day after the previous episode, "Selfless, Brave, and True." I say this because it doesn't seem likely that Tamara would have left Hook outside of Storybrooke for more than a day, and since she went into her storage area to get stuff she would need just to come to Storybrooke, I doubt she would need to go back to New York to pick up a few things.

And just to make it clear, when King Nigel talks about the rogue Wolf he was trying to kill, it is the same one that killed him in Chapter 2.8 - Lone Wolf. Tristan and Andrew were along on that second hunt to keep them out of other mischief at home!

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please, PLEASE review!


	42. S2 Ch21 - A Soldier's Courage

Just in time for the new year! (Well, where I'm posting from, at any rate!)

Hope you enjoy! (Both the chapter and the new year, lol!)

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Andrew is the younger brother of the king of the Wolfsbane kingdom. His mother, the Dowager Queen Garnet, feels that her younger son is better suited to the throne. Though she contrived to give King Tristan's wife the herbs that prevent conception, Ayala has finally gotten pregnant. This upsets Garnet, who goes out to visit Andrew at one of the outposts he is inspecting along the border with their neighboring kingdom.

The other kingdom has been in a state of upheaval for approximately three generations, following the death of the last known descendant of the royal line. Sometimes, there are raids into the Wolfsbane kingdom, so Andrew, as general of the royal army, maintains the border vigilantly.

Garnet forces Andrew into making a deal with Rumpelstiltskin, to find out what his future will be. The impish little man tells them that Andrew could not conquer the warring kingdom to become a king, but that he will be a king one day. However, the Dark One specifies that Andrew will not be a ruling king, since he will marry a woman who will be queen in her own right and will not cede her power to her husband. Garnet is quite upset by this revelation.

~In Storybrooke, Paige was attacked by two ifrits possessing a pair of twins, the last of bartender Cassiel Gould's eleven sisters. However, these ifrits watched as their father murdered their mother in the first moments after their birth, and so feel guilty for having harmed a pregnant woman. They strengthen the unborn babe using their powers, and in turn allow the child to suppress them. Thus the twin girls are in control of their own bodies again, though the ifrits are still within them.

Despite being born at 27 weeks, Paige's daughter reacts more like a child born at 31-32 weeks, meaning that she is much stronger and healthier than the doctors would have expected, though she still has struggles. At first, the newborn requires a lot of machinery to survive, but as the days go by, they are able to remove more and more of the equipment. Most recently, Aurelia Kaltrina is able to survive on her own, no longer even needing the incubator to keep her temperature up. Paige has finally been able to hold and breastfeed her daughter for the first time, just over a week after the child's birth.

While Paige is in the hospital after the attack, Mother Superior stops in with news that is both good and bad: while Mike was not Cora's true victim, Ed Grove, who had been Eliza's protector in the world that was, is the person who died. Mike, however, is still missing.

Paige is kept in the hospital for the severe headaches she's experiencing. Dr. Whale can't find anything wrong, no matter what tests he runs, but he's concerned enough not to release her until the headaches stop. When Mr. Gold finally finds out what happened to Paige and visits her, he uses his magic to remove a sizeable, potentially fatal blood clot. After he does so, Paige's difficulties with remembering sign language cease. Much to Paige's dismay, Whale plans to release Paige the next day, while Aurelia must remain in the hospital.

* * *

><p>Andrew stared into the mirror over the washstand. He wondered if others could see what he had done simply by looking at him. Why had he let his mother push him into that deal? That was wrong, so very wrong. He was happy here as his brother's general, and now he knew that he could not stay.<p>

"… for it is she who shall rule." The Dark One's words echoed in Andrew's mind. That could only mean one thing. It must be the princess of the Blueberry kingdom. Andrew felt apprehensive. He had no idea what things were like over there. That kingdom was known for its overall intelligence, particularly the descendents of the first queen, Lanae. After all, not everyone could have taken a simple berry and founded an entire kingdom based on the successful trade of it. So the princess, whose name he could not remember, was probably quite intelligent. But he had heard she was also stubborn and headstrong, with a temper – or was that her father? At any rate, he didn't know of any other kingdom that allowed women to rule. True, not very much was known about the many kingdoms on the other side of the Wolfswood, but he had never heard anything about ruling queens over there.

Could he really be happy in the Blueberry Kingdom, so far away from the things he knew so well? And who would guard the Wolfswood and the Betrayer's Border in his place?

A sudden sharp rapping at his door startled him, but the door began to open even as he turned. It was his mother, which did not really surprise him. Inwardly, he sighed. He knew she was not happy with the predictions Rumpelstiltskin had made last night, but she had only herself to blame. She shouldn't have been so eager to learn the future.

"We must find some way to change your fate," Garnet snapped. They were alone in the room; Andrew's manservant, Colby, had gone to the kitchens to collect the prince's breakfast. "I won't have a son of mine married to a red-headed strumpet! Especially not you. 'Tis bad enough that Tristan married that inhuman creature!"

"Tristan loves her, Mother," Andrew said, keeping his voice mild. Truth to tell, he was fond of Ayala, as well. Not the same way his brother was, but she was so different from the women that threw themselves at him. Those women were mostly obsequious and shallow, and some of them rather simple, as well. A few of them had been genuinely nice young women, but even those few had not inspired any actual love from him. If he could find a beautiful, independent woman like Ayala, perhaps he would finally fall in love. "And the woman I am supposed to wed, according to the Dark One – if she is to be the queen of her kingdom, I rather doubt that she would be a, um, strumpet, Mother."

"Bah," Garnet said dismissively. "Red hair on a woman is a mark of her whoredom, Andrew, make no mistake about that! Though you _might_ end up as her favorite, you would only be first among male concubines. Mark my words! Besides, I will never let this happen. I'll find you some lovely, eligible woman right here in our own kingdom, and you'll marry _her_!"

Andrew gave a soft sigh. She was certainly capable of doing so, but he rather suspected that it would not change the future that had been foretold. Something would happen, perhaps whatever wife his mother chose would die, or would run away to marry her true love before she could be forced to marry Andrew, and he would still end up a king who did not rule. Perhaps, given time, he could convince her of that truth. As she herself had said, everyone knew that Rumpelstiltskin could see the future. What he had spoken _would_ come to pass, somehow. But if his mother kept trying to push this, he could have Tristan put his foot down on the subject. Andrew's marriage would have to be approved by the king, anyway.

But Andrew knew he had to tell his brother what the Dowager Queen had done. That might finally make Tristan realize just how deep her treachery went. It was a terrible thing, to try to wrongfully manipulate a younger brother onto the throne, and Firend's descendents knew that better than anyone. He wondered just how angry Tristan would be.

As he turned, trying to figure out what to say to his mother, Andrew heard a strange sound coming from outside the window. In a split second, he reacted, recognizing the sound by instinct. Ignoring her protests, Andrew pushed his mother down, and a loud thunk sounded. Staggering to her feet, Garnet saw an arrow piercing the wall, right behind where her own head had just been!

Andrew gave a quick gasp, but that was the only thing that betrayed any hint of fear. The arrow had whizzed past his head, and he could feel the burn that meant it had grazed his ear on its way by. It was so close to his head that his hair, on the longish side but not overly so, was pinned to the wall. He grasped the arrow shaft, but from his angle, he couldn't manage to pull it out. Though his hand stopped the arrow's quivering, he could still hear the echo of it inside his head.

He had half-fallen against the wall when the arrow struck, and he rather suspected that his stumble was the only thing that had kept him alive. He stood up, ignoring the pain as his hair tore. Just then, Colby entered with the breakfast tray, but froze when he saw the scene before him.

Without hesitating, Andrew overturned his table and put his mother behind it. "Stay here where it's safe. We shall find out who shot that arrow." He stamped out the flame of a candle that had sprawled to the floor with his papers when he moved the table.

Before Garnet could speak, Andrew rushed out, shouting for half a dozen men to protect his mother, and for his own battle gear to be brought to him. Garnet, cowering behind the table as six men trooped in and took up guard positions, heard Andrew continuing to bark orders from the next room as Colby swiftly readied him for battle. From what she heard, scouts were already out looking for the perpetrator, or at least his tracks. Though she was terrified, she also felt a sense of justification. In Andrew, the kingdom had a man who understood what needed to be done, and saw it done in a timely manner. He was a man who _should_ be king.

* * *

><p>Paige stood in her living room, and it didn't feel like any place she had ever lived. It felt like she had been in the hospital for an eternity, and before that, she had spent much of her time at Fawn and Noah's. But more than that, she was now coming home to an empty house. It hadn't felt that way before Aurelia's birth, but now the house was little more than a shell, waiting to be filled. Biting her lip, Paige pictured Aurelia growing up in these walls. Or should she move, find some new home to start a new chapter of her life? She still wasn't sure why they hadn't gone back to the Enchanted Forest, though now that she thought about it, she suspected Rumpelstiltskin had intended it that way so he could find his son. But regardless of the reason, she accepted the fact that they might never get back there.<p>

She put a hand against the wall that separated her side of the duplex from Mike's. She wasn't sure if it was in her head or not, but the sensation from over there was even emptier than her own side. Leaning against that wall, she sniffled as a few rogue tears slid down her cheeks. Would Mike ever come back to her? Not just come back from wherever he'd run off to, but would he – _could_ he, love her again?

Making her way upstairs, Paige lingered at the top of the steps. After a long moment of indecision, she went into the room that had been set up as a nursery. The furniture Gold had provided looked inviting, and she wished her daughter were here. On the tall dresser holding the baby clothes Paige had been given sat several other things. One of them was a baby monitor that Fawn had given her. There were also several toys – the wooden rattle from Fawn, the lovely music box from Cassie, the toys from Megumi, who worked at the Chinese restaurant, and also something that Paige had found in one of the boxes from the storage unit where her parent's things from this world were kept.

That last item was a poorly-made stuffed bird. She had sewn it herself, when her mother was carrying Weston. She had been only seven, then, and it showed. She smiled and shook her head. It was supposed to have been a dove, to bring the baby peace, but it only vaguely resembled a bird at all. Her mother had exclaimed over it, and insisted on giving it to each of the children she had. And even though Eliza had been somewhat embarrassed, she had given it to Paul, too, after her mother died. There were so many memories associated with this battered, ill-made toy.

Then Paige's mouth dropped open. Gold wasn't able to find her brothers in this world – but what if he had something that belonged to them? To _all_ of them? There had to be spells he could use, if he had something to work with. And while she was there, she could find out how Belle was doing. She was sure it was much too soon for Belle to have her memories back, but maybe they had made some progress. After all, it might have helped the poor girl just to get out of the hospital. And it would be nice to have something to do, other than sit around and wait. Dr. Whale had insisted that she spend at least an hour or two out of the hospital before coming back to visit Aurelia.

* * *

><p>Matilda felt a bit strange, lifting these weights. This world surely had some strange things, but in this case, it was good. In the world that was, practicing with her axe had provided all the workout she needed, but now, when she didn't have her axe, these weights would help. She needed to stay fit, so that when she finally did find her axe, she would be able to use it if necessary. Perhaps the magic of the axe would compensate if she wasn't physically strong enough, but she didn't want to win by default, just because her axe was enchanted. She had a very strong urge to <em>deserve<em> a victory.

When a knock sounded at her door, she frowned, irritated. She finished out the set, not wanting to lose track, and the knock came again. She put the weights down and called, "Coming!" Her hair was in a ponytail, with the shorter strands pinned above her ears. When she opened the door, she shivered as the cool air swept over her. She was wearing a tank top and thin exercise pants with sneakers, and she had worked up a sweat.

But she forgot how chilled she was when she saw who was at her door.

* * *

><p>Garnet tried to stand up, but the men guarding her wouldn't let her. So she spoke to the one between her and the arrow still stuck into the wall. "That lock of my son's hair, pinned by the arrow? I'd like to have it. As a keepsake."<p>

She had expected the man to question her, but he simply stepped over and grasped the arrow. Pinching the hairs together with the fingers of his opposite hand, he pulled the arrow out of the wall. Without a word, he handed the lock of hair to the Dowager Queen. At first, she thought he was being derisive of her, for wanting such a memoir, but when she looked him in the eyes, he nodded, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. It was gone in an instant, though, and he returned to watching vigilantly, protecting the mother of a man he greatly admired.

* * *

><p>In the forest near the outpost, Rumpelstiltskin smirked to himself. Though he was too far away to see into the room with his own eyes, a small pool nearby served as an excellent scrying-mirror. He held a bow in his hands, and in his delight, he twirled it like a baton. It had once belonged to a man who had dared to steal from the Dark One. A man Rumpelstiltskin had let off easy, with only a warning, and not because Belle had wanted him to.<p>

The magic in the bow had served well this day. Rumpelstiltskin had seen this moment in his visions, and he knew that all he had to do was aim for the tip of the prince's left ear. The bow's magic enabled the arrow to find its target even after the boy had moved in an unnecessary attempt to save his mother. The boy didn't know that his heroics weren't needed, though, and that was the important part. To make sure these three tiny kingdoms were included when Regina finally managed to cast the Dark Curse, he needed something that represented the virtue of each of these three kingdoms. And the Wolfsbane's virtue was courage.

He already had a token of the intelligence of the Blueberry kingdom, though at the time, he hadn't known what he would need it for. And that war-torn excuse for a kingdom between the other two was little more than a seething mass of betrayal. In fact, most people in the Blueberry and Wolfsbane kingdoms referred to it as the Betrayer's Kingdom. That would be an easy token to collect, but this one here, in the Wolfsbane Kingdom, needed careful preparation. One day, that lock of hair would be his.

Rumpelstiltskin knew that he would eventually make a deal with Garnet. She would want Eliza killed – which he would take measures to prevent – and to get what she wanted, she would trade that precious memento. He giggled softly. His plans were coming along quite nicely.

And though that brave little princling had gone out in search of the marksman who shot the arrow, Rumpelstiltskin had laid his plans well. The tracks the boy and his soldiers were already following led out across the border to where a contingent of enemy soldiers was hiding. These enemies were actually not intending to attack the Wolfsbane's border – they were simply hiding from the army of one of the other factions. But the boy would jump to the conclusions Rumpelstiltskin had led him to. People were _so_ easily manipulated. Looking very pleased with himself, Rumpelstiltskin held the bow in both hands. Its magic would come in handy again someday. Then the Dark One and the magic bow vanished in a swirl of dark purple smoke.

* * *

><p>Matilda gaped openly. She couldn't help herself.<p>

"Hey, can I… come in?" It was Mike!

Shaking herself, Matilda opened the door wider so Mike could enter. "What are you – why…" She closed her mouth and frowned. "Where the hell have you been?" she asked, punching him hard on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" Mike rubbed his arm. As scrawny as she looked, she was very strong.

"What – how dare you! What was that _for_?" She punched him again. "You disappear for weeks, and everyone thought you were dead, and you think you can just waltz in here and we won't be pissed?"

"Woah, woah, wait a minute – who thought I was dead?" Mike seemed genuinely surprised.

"Right, you were off on your own, being a selfish ass. You don't know any of what happened." Matilda glared at him for a moment. "The night you disappeared, someone was killed. Regina's mother, also a powerful, evil sorceress, was trying to frame Regina for murder. From what I understand, Cora was trying to get Regina to trust her and work with her again – stupidest thing _I _ever heard of. Anyway, she disguised the body, so we thought it was Dr. Hopper who died. And I guess it must have worked, because the next thing I knew, Regina _was_ working with Cora again, and then Dr. Hopper came back, and he was just held captive, and –"

Mike cut her off. "Wait, Archie's alive? When I came back, Paige wasn't home, so I put my phone on the charger and turned it back on – I mean, I didn't have electricity out there, so of course my phone died. Anyway, there were a bunch of messages from my brother, and one from Paige, and Paige said that Archie was dead! No one said anything about him being held captive!"

Matilda rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe that's because we were all freaking out. No one had seen you since the night Dr. Hopper supposedly died, and when we found out he was alive, Paige realized that someone else had to be dead. And she was terrified it was you. Even your brother thought so, until Paige finally found someone willing to help. Mother Superior used to be the Blue Fairy, back where we came from, and she or one of the other fairies used their magic to find out who was really buried there. And we all thank the gods it wasn't you, but…" She trailed off, realizing that this might be a blow for him. "It _was _someone you know. His name in this world was Ed Grove, and I can't remember his real name, but he was a knight in Paige's castle."

"Elrick!" Mike staggered, and Matilda led him to a chair so he could sit down. "I didn't always like him – he had feelings for Eliza – but he was a good man, all the same. He was her protector."

"Yeah," Matilda said, "that's what I heard. But the thing is, as long as you've been gone, Paige and Noah were both starting to think that maybe you were dead, too. They've been worried sick over you, and Paige has enough going on, with the attack, and the baby coming early."

Mike grabbed Matilda's shoulders. "What did you say? What attack? What about the baby?"

Matilda tried to punch him again, but without seeming to realize what he was doing, Mike put up his own hand and deflected the blow. "Maybe if you were here, you could have prevented some of this, but even if you couldn't, at least you'd have known. At least you could have been there for her. She was attacked by these two ifrits that were possessing Cassie's twin sisters. I don't know if you know Cassie – she's the main bartender at the Cat Club. Anyway, they threw Paige against a tree and hurt her really badly. I just found out that she had a blood clot that could have killed her. And because of her injuries, she went into labor, and they couldn't stop it. They had to do a C-section."

"I have to get to the hospital." Mike surged up and stumbled toward the door, but Matilda pushed him back down into the chair.

"Wait here, I need to change, and then I can drive you there."

* * *

><p>When the bell over his door jingled, Mr. Gold looked up. He saw that it was Paige and went back to polishing a pewter tankard. He heard her approach the counter he was standing beside. "Where's the child?" He spoke in soft voice, devoid of emotion. He looked over at her hands as she replied.<p>

**She hasn't been released from the hospital yet.**

She looked anxious, and he hesitated a moment before saying, "Well, I'm surprised you're not with her right now." His voice was light, with just a hint of accusation.

**I want to be, but Dr. Whale released me this morning and told me to spend at least an hour or two outside of the hospital.** He knew she had noticed his tone, but she didn't react to it. Instead, she pulled something out of her purse.

Gold raised his eyebrow at the poorly-made stuffed toy, but before he could say anything, Lacey swept through the curtain into the front room. Paige blinked, clearly shocked by the other woman's appearance. "Ah, Lacey," he said, smirking at his new girlfriend. "This is Paige, a, ah, former employee of mine. Paige, Lacey – my… companion." His smirk deepened as he watched the confusion on Paige's face.

**What happened to Belle? Who is Lacey?**

"As you can see, Lacey has, well, remembered herself," Gold explained.

**But what about Belle?** Paige looked at him with concern and worry in her eyes, but Gold ignored her, changing the subject with a question of his own.

"What did you come in here for, Paige?"

She picked up the stuffed bird and handed it to Gold. She wanted to know what was going on with Belle, but she could tell that Mr. Gold wasn't going to answer her right now. But she kept looking curiously at Belle, though she tried to keep it subtle.

**This belonged to my brothers. All of them. Can you use this to make a spell to help me find them here in Storybrooke?**

Gold glanced at Lacey out of the corner of his eye. She didn't know about magic, and since that had been an issue for her before any memories came back to her, he wasn't sure that he should talk openly about his magic in front of her. But before he could think of something to say, Lacey leaned against the counter to look at the toy in Gold's hands.

"That's a piece of junk, there." She glanced coyly at Gold. "Now of course, I'm not the proprietor here, but I'm pretty sure that this establishment is above _that_ sort of merchandise." Lacey stared frankly at Paige. "And why do you talk with your hands? What's wrong with you? Cat got your tongue?" She gave a derisive laugh.

Paige blinked back tears. She knew Belle would never have said such a thing, but if the Curse brought out deeply-buried parts of their personalities, could it mean that Belle really thought something was wrong with Paige?

Gold wasn't quite sure what to do, but Lacey was staring at Paige as if expecting an answer, so he provided one. "Paige was… assaulted, some years ago. Ever since, she has been unable to speak. No one's quite sure why – the doctors can't find anything wrong with her vocal chords, but when she woke up in hospital, she couldn't speak." He swallowed hard. Why had he added the part about her vocal chords? He hadn't meant to be cruel, but the look in Paige's eyes showed that she was hurt. But Lacey gave another derisive laugh, and leaned toward Gold. He could feel her breasts brush against his arm, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from adding, "And you're quite right, Lacey, this thing _is_ beneath my shop. No one would buy it." He handed the poorly-made toy to Lacey, who tossed it into a trash can.

Paige was completely taken aback. What was going on here?

Gold, pushing on against the little voice that told him not to, smirked and said, "Whyever do you look so surprised, dove?" He leaned closer to half-whisper, "Everyone knows I'm a monster." He suppressed the memory of saying something similar to Belle just after the Curse was broken.

**I don't know how Belle got the wrong memories, and I don't know what this Lacey person has done to you, but you're **_**not**_** a monster. There's good inside you, I've seen it. You're just choosing to revert to your old self, because that's easier. Change is hard, but if you can break through it, I **_**know**_** you can be a better man. You have to bring Belle back, Lacey is no good for you.**

"Lacey accepts me as I am. More than that, Paige, she _loves_ the monster in me." Despite the superior look on his face, Gold had to push down a twinge of guilt. He didn't want to treat Paige this way, but what would Lacey think of him if he were nice to Paige? He'd already lost Belle, and he had a sinking feeling that he was losing Baelfire, too. So he clung to whatever it was he had with Lacey, refusing to acknowledge the fact that what he was doing right now might make him lose Paige, too. Lacey smirked at his words.

Paige looked Lacey up and down. The other woman was wearing a dress that Paige could only describe as inappropriate. It was very tight, clinging to every curve, and though the hemline reached a decent length, there was a slit straight up the front center of the skirt. It looked as though she would be hard-pressed to sit down without flashing the room. The neckline was still somewhat modest, if only in comparison, though Paige had never seen Belle wear anything quite this low-cut. In short, the best words Paige could think of to describe the dress were tacky and slutty.

She looked back at Gold. He hadn't actually said that Lacey loved him, but Paige knew he was trying to convince himself that she did. **Whatever you need to tell yourself,** she signed, her expression cold. She turned on her heel and stalked out.

As she left, she heard Lacey say, "Well, that was weird." The woman didn't even try to keep her voice down, and Paige was grateful for that. Lacey's words fueled Paige's anger, and without that anger, Paige knew she would burst into tears.

The bell jingled again as the door closed behind Paige, and Lacey gave Gold a halfway teasing look. "Your companion? That makes me sound like some kind of fancy hooker, Mr. Gold," she said. Though she seemed to be speaking lightly of it, he knew that she would take offense if he said the wrong thing.

"That was the farthest thing from my mind, dearest," he replied, stroking her cheek with one finger. "It was not my intention to make it sound like you were a prostitute, and I certainly don't view you in that manner." He hoped it was the right thing to say.

It must have been, because Lacey's brow smoothed. "Well, if I'm going to be compared to a hooker, at least it's a fancy one," she said, chuckling. He laughed, too, though he didn't find the conversation very amusing. Then Lacey ran her hand lightly down his chest. "I think I need another drink. I'll, um, be in the back," she said, seductively. "If you find yourself in need of my… services." She ran her hand down her own body suggestively, and then she laughed. Again, Gold smiled, but he wished Lacey were just a little less coarse.

* * *

><p>Paige tried not to cry as she walked through town. It wasn't until she was passing the little park that was across from the bank that she realized that she had been wandering aimlessly. She sniffed and wiped a tear out of her eye. She watched for a moment as Emma's son, Henry, showed Regina his birdhouse. For some reason, Regina looked sad, though she had put on a smile for Henry. Paige supposed that the mayor missed having her son around. Regina may not have given birth, but she <em>had<em> raised Henry, and that surely created a special bond, one that Emma could never fully share with the boy. It made Paige feel sad for Emma to think about it. She couldn't imagine not raising her own child.

* * *

><p>When Andrew came back a few hours later, he was sweaty and looked tired. Garnet knew he hadn't eaten yet, so she'd taken the liberty of instructing Colby to keep a good meal ready. Though older than Andrew, the man was devoted to her son, and would likely have kept a meal waiting without her instruction, but she needed <em>something <em>to do. The soldiers insisted on continuing to protect her, though they had eventually moved her to a more secure part of the outpost. She had been quite relieved when she no longer had to cower behind that table.

"The trail led us back to an encampment, nearly a mile over the border. Same direction as the tracks from the other night went, but because it was dark, we lost those. But this time…" Andrew looked grim. "Well, we assume that their first scout discovered I was here. No offense, Mother, but I rather doubt they would try to assassinate you. After all, Tristan has the throne, and as his general, I have been out here inspecting the outposts that prevent the factions from raiding our kingdom for supplies. Assassinating me would make more sense." He looked at his mother, fearing she would be upset.

"None taken, my son," she replied, watching him anxiously. She had never really realized how dangerous it could be for him to come out here to the border. She could have lost him today, either by that arrow, or while he tracked the culprit down. "What of the raiding party?"

"Killed or fled," Andrew said, frowning. "I did not like it, but once they started to retreat I had to let them go. For all I know, they had a larger force waiting nearby."

"But you are well, my son, and you have shown them your strength, and the strength of this border. You and your men have proven that our kingdom will be no easy target for them." Garnet was focused on her son, and never realized that the soldiers in the room were now standing a little straighter, and clearly felt proud of themselves.

Andrew noticed, though, and he smiled warmly at his mother. Though she hadn't intended it this time, she had complimented his men again. "Yes, Mother. This outpost and these men – and _all_ of our fine troops – do honor to the memory of our founder."

He turned away from his mother's pleased face, not wanting her to see that he was suddenly pained. He still had to tell his brother what she had revealed. It was not right to plot against a fully-capable elder son.

* * *

><p>As Paige walked through the hospital corridors, she was still lost in her unpleasant thoughts. She knew Gold hadn't hurt her out of cruelty, but because Lacey was embracing his darker nature, bringing it out to the forefront. As she approached the nurse's station in the maternity ward, however, an argument caught her attention. A man was standing there with his back to her, and his voice sounded familiar. But engrossed as she was in her worries about Mr. Gold, it took her a moment to place it.<p>

When she did recognize the voice, she froze. Dimly, she heard the soft thud as her purse hit the floor, but it seemed so unimportant. Mike was here! He was safe, and he was _here_!

While she stood transfixed, Whale came up behind her. He called out, "Special delivery for you, Paige!" He had a very large, awkward box in his arms.

Paige heard him, but kept staring at Mike. Part of her thought that was what Whale meant, that his "special delivery" was Mike's return. So she jumped when Whale nudged her. Whirling, she stared at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to startle you, but this arrived a little while ago for you. From… from Gold." He grimaced, and tried to smooth it as quickly as he could. He doubted he would ever understand what Paige saw in the pawnbroker, but he didn't want to upset Paige needlessly. He wanted to ask what Paige had paid, or promised to pay, for the stroller, but he knew he couldn't keep the venom from his voice, so he chose not to speak.

Still staring at Whale as if she'd never seen him before, Paige missed the moment when Mike, nudged by Matilda, noticed her behind him.

"Paige!"

Mike's voice drew her attention from Whale. She took a step toward Mike, staring at him with tears in her eyes. He winced when she froze in place, a hint of uncertainty on her face. He knew it was his own fault. She was afraid he would overreact if she threw herself into his arms, like she wanted to. So he rushed forward and swept Paige into a big hug. He tried not to squeeze too hard, but he was glad to see her.

"I've missed you so much," he said as he released her, sounding like he was about to cry. But the hopeful look in her eyes was too much. "Look, Paige, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that in the first place, and I should have come back a lot sooner. I didn't know what was happening here, but that's no excuse. The thing is, I still don't know what I want to do. About… us. About your daughter. About everything. And I'm so sorry, but I did learn one thing. I don't want to spend my life without you. I don't know what that will mean for us yet – I just know that I don't want to lose you forever. So please, I know it's a lot to ask after everything I've put you through, but give me another chance? I need to be around you, and your daughter, if I'm going to be able to figure out what I want."

Paige pulled away. **How many times are you going to do this to me? Get my hopes up and let me down? I don't know how much more I can take, Mike. I missed you so much – I thought you were dead. I love you. I always will. But I can't keep going through this over and over. And I will **_**not**_** put Aurelia through it, either.**

Taking in the look in Paige's eyes, and the gathering crowd around the nurse's station, Whale handed the box to Matilda, who blinked in surprise and started to protest. But when Whale pushed between Paige and Mike, taking them both by an arm, Matilda understood. Whale led the couple off to a nearby private waiting room that was empty at the moment.

"Here," Whale said, his voice cheerful. "You two can, ah, catch up in here, while I go let Dr. Solano know that you'd like your daughter brought out." He smiled at Paige, and turned back to Matilda. "Hey, after I let Braden know they're here, maybe you could help me set this thing up for Paige?" He took the large box back from the slender girl.

"Yeah," Matilda said, catching on. These two should probably be left alone for this, and besides, she liked working with her hands. A stroller shouldn't be too hard to assemble.

Paige stared at Mike as if she was trying to memorize every detail. She didn't even notice Whale and Matilda talking and then leaving the room. **I… I thought you were dead,** she signed. **We knew you weren't the one Cora killed, but… you'd been gone so long it seemed like something terrible **_**must**_** have happened.**

"I know," Mike replied. "And I'm sorry. I should never have left in the first place, but… well, like I already said, I haven't been able to make a decision. I still love you, Paige. And like you said to me just now, I always will. But – to raise the Dark One's child? To feel pressured to adopt her? That's – I just don't know if I can take that."

**I don't want you to adopt Aurelia. What I **_**want**_** is for you to decide for yourself. I'd be lying if said I wasn't **_**hoping**_** you would eventually adopt her, but if you were only doing it because you think that's what I want, then I would say, don't. I just want to know that there's a chance, however remote, that she might be allowed to be considered for the throne someday. It's her birthright as my firstborn. But if you can't love her as your own, that's okay, too. I can't say that it won't hurt me if you don't, because I'm only human, but I **_**understand**_**.**

Mike shook his head. "No matter what you say, I still _feel_ like I'm expected to adopt her. I can't help how I feel, Paige. I'm only human, too." He sighed. "What I want right now is to go back to the way things were before our fight. Before I found out… what you were doing with Gold." He wanted to add, behind my back, but he bit his tongue, almost literally. At that point in time, he had believed that he preferred men, so there was no romantic relationship between Paige and himself. Although it hurt to know that she remembered their true past all along, and _still_ slept with Gold.

He cleared his throat. "I want to take you out to Granny's, and go to the movies and the arcade. But with one difference – this time, when we go out somewhere together, it will be like a date. And I understand if you say no. Because… in the end, I might break your heart all over again." Tears pricked his eyes, and he knew his voice was thick with emotion, but he continued before Paige could respond. "I don't want to. But I can't promise that I can handle all of this. I just – I really want another chance, even though I don't deserve it."

Paige just stared at him for a long moment. There were tears running down her cheeks. She struggled with herself. She wanted to protect herself, and her daughter, from being hurt, but like she had already said, she still loved Mike. Finally, she raised her hands. **I shouldn't,** she signed. **But I can't turn my back on true love. Not yet, anyway. **She bit her lip, praying that this would work out. **I'll give you another chance, Mike.**

Just then, Dr. Solano wheeled Aurelia's little crib into the room. He'd heard from Whale that Mike was back, and he looked closely at Paige and Mike, searching for some kind of signal as to their mood. Paige seemed sad and a touch wary, and Mike looked a bit anxious. But Braden thought things seemed amiable enough, overall.

"Hey, Mike," Braden said. "Your brother will be happy to see you."

Mike blushed as he replied. "Hi, Braden. I guess I _should_ go see Noah. Let him know I'm okay."

Braden smiled broadly. "First, though, Paige and I would like you to meet Aurelia." He lifted the tiny baby out of the crib and looked to Paige. When she smiled and nodded toward Mike, Braden handed the little girl over.

Mike stared at the baby, entranced. "She's so tiny," he said in wonder, touching the little fist she was waving around.

"She was nearly two months early," Braden explained. "She's still smaller than most babies, but she was even smaller than this when she was born." He gave Paige a big smile. "She's only an ounce away from six pounds. You can take her home tomorrow."

**Please, Doctor Solano, **Paige signed, **let me take her home tonight. I don't think I can stay in my house alone, now. I know I've never had her at the house, but it just – it feels so empty without her.**

Mike had looked up from his inspection of Aurelia and saw Paige's signs. "I can stay the night," he offered. "I can sleep on the couch, or on the floor in Paige's room, or something. I can – I mean, you know, just in case." He'd almost said he could be there for Paige, but he stopped himself. He could hear Matilda's voice in his head, telling him that he should have been there for Paige for everything else she'd been through lately. He ached to think of Paige going through all of that alone, even though he knew she had other friends, like Ruby, and Emma, and even Fawn and, apparently, Matilda. But he doubted that it had helped much, since Paige was also worrying that he was dead. "Please, Braden!" he said. His voice was soft, but desperate. Even though he could never make up for not being there before, the least he could do was support Paige now.

Doctor Solano looked at Paige, Mike, and Aurelia critically. "Well," he mused, "she _has_ met every milestone except her weight, and she's nearly there. And if there will be someone there who make the phone call if anything should happen – no offense, Paige. But I definitely feel better at the thought that someone who _can_ speak will be around." He gave Paige an apologetic grimace.

**It's alright, Doctor. I'll feel better, too, knowing that I can get her help faster if I need to.**

"Well, then, I'll go start the paperwork."

Paige rushed forward and flung her arms around Solano. She wished she could actually thank him, too, but while embracing him she couldn't use her hands, so released him. **Thank you so much, Doctor Solano!** Her faced beamed at the thought of taking her daughter home.

"Please, Paige, call me Braden. We're practically family, after all."

She smiled in return, and spelled out the name in sign language. **Braden.**

Aurelia had been getting a little fussy in Mike's arms, and now she started to cry. Paige gasped and put her hands to her breasts. She didn't understand what was happening.

Braden smiled, almost apologetically, and said, "According to my wife, that will happen pretty much every time she cries – she, or _any_ other baby. It's just a biological reaction to get the milk flowing." He glanced at the clock high up on the wall. "We usually feed her around now, anyway, so go ahead. I'll get that paperwork ready."

As Doctor Solano left the waiting room, Paige sat down. She had worn a maternity top that could easily be pulled aside for feedings, though she hadn't yet bought a nursing bra. Without shame, she maneuvered her right breast out of the now-damp bra she was wearing, and Mike handed the baby over. He was a little embarrassed, and wasn't sure if he should look or not. Paige shook her head and rolled her eyes, but smiled at him to take the sting out of her unspoken criticism.

* * *

><p>Andrew escorted his mother back to the castle, claiming that he wanted to ensure her safety. He had explained that, though he believed the attack was aimed at him, he didn't want to take any chances, and the Dowager Queen seemed to accept that unquestioningly. But Andrew had another purpose in mind, as well.<p>

He went to one knee before his brother, his right arm across his chest so his fist was over his heart. Then he cast formality aside and stood, smiling broadly at the ruling couple. Tristan was shaking his head at his brother's formal action – after all, they were in a private sitting room, not in the throne room or an audience chamber, where others would see.

"My congratulations to you both," Andrew said, still grinning widely. "I cannot wait to meet my niece or nephew."

"It will be a boy," Ayala said softly.

At Andrew's raised eyebrows, Tristan smiled and said, "One of her feelings. You know, those Golden Hind, gut-feelings which are seldom wrong."

Ayala looked back and forth between the two brothers, her face uncertain. Though she had been among humans for nearly ten years, she still didn't always realize whether a human was teasing or serious, even when that human was her husband. But the smiles that Tristan and Andrew couldn't hide told her all.

"_Seldom_ wrong, husband mine. This _could_ be a girl-child, instead."

Tristan's answering smile was just a touch grim. "Do not worry, Ayala. If you bear me a girl, I will re-write our kingdom's laws so that she can rule. I will not let antiquated ideals keep this child from being my heir. After all, the Blueberry kingdom has had many ruling queens over the years, and they are doing just as well as our own kingdom. Better, I'd say, since they don't seem to have gone through anything like what happened when my father was young."

But Ayala didn't know that story. "What does that mean, Tristan?" she asked curiously.

Tristan looked down, then shared a glance with his brother. "Suffice it to say that our kingdom could well have ended up like the Betrayer's."

Though she may not always understand humans, Ayala knew that when her husband used that tone, he would not discuss the subject any further, so she didn't ask again. Instead, she turned to Andrew. "Brother mine," she said gravely, "I see a dark truth in your eyes tonight. Is that not why you have come?"

Andrew nodded. "Tristan, Ayala, it pains me to say this but – well, Mother… she's been plotting against you." He wouldn't meet either of their eyes, especially his brother's. "She wants nothing more than to raise me to the throne." He cleared his throat. "That is _not_ my wish, though. I am content as a general – I would not make a good king, like you. I would never seek to usurp you, Your Highness." Once again, he went to one knee with his right fist over his heart.

Tristan gripped his brother's shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "Andrew, look at me." When Andrew finally raised his eyes, Tristan said, "Mother tried to keep Ayala from conceiving, and that did not work. Her plot to see you in my place will not work, either. I have already come to the conclusion that she must be banished, but first I have to catch her in open rebellion. It won't be difficult – I suspect she will begin to give my Queen the herbs that are not meant to be taken while pregnant, in an effort to rob me of my heir. And I _will _catch her at it. Meanwhile, we will be sure that Ayala only receives food and drink from a trusted source." He shook his brother gently when Andrew looked away. "I _know_ you are faithful, Brother. You always have been. And you _would_ make a good king, but I suppose it's just as well for me that you do not care for the job." Tristan smiled at his brother.

Andrew smiled back, but he decided not to tell his brother about that deal. It would anger Tristan, and news that his brother had made a deal with the Dark One might well make the king re-evaluate his view of Andrew's loyalty.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold listened carefully. He was about to close his shop for the evening, and he and Lacey were going straight to that dive she liked so well, The Rabbit Hole.<p>

As soon as he heard the bathroom door close, he went over to the trash can. Bending down carefully, he reached in and pulled out the misshapen bird Paige had brought in earlier. Though she hadn't elaborated, he could tell its history just by touching it. She had only been seven when she made it, and had hated sewing even then. But it was made with all her love. Each of her brothers had responded to that, and cherished the toy. Besides, small children didn't know enough to realize, let alone care, how poor the craftsmanship was.

Blinking rapidly, Gold stood and went to his wall safe. He hadn't meant to hurt Paige, but also didn't necessarily intend to help her, either. Regardless, he knew he would give this back to her someday, for sentimental reasons if nothing else. He didn't yet know what price he would ask for its return, but he had no doubt she would pay it.

* * *

><p>When Paige realized that this was one of the dreams, she swallowed. She hoped Mr. Gold wasn't here to prove that he was a monster, but no matter what he did to her, she would never treat him like one. He may have done some monstrous things, but she could still sense the good in him. He appeared with his back to Paige, and turned to face her. His expression made her eyes tear up. He was in so much pain! Without a word, he moved to stand in front of her.<p>

"I'll pay whatever you ask to find my brothers," she said. "If we can't talk about it while Lacey's around, just tell me when would be a good time to come in and get a finding spell. Please!"

He frowned at her. Part of him had thought to apologize for Lacey's rudeness, but now he just wanted to wipe that trusting, yet concerned, look off Paige's face. "We don't even know if your brothers are _in_ Storybrooke, dearie," he said softly. "Originally, I would have said that they have to be around here somewhere, but as you may have heard, we've discovered that one corner of our former land was… well, protected from the Curse. Perhaps your brothers are there."

"But now that you have something that belonged to them –"

Gold cut her off. "That was nothing but trash, dearie." He gave her a smug look.

Paige shook her head. "You're not doing this because you're a monster, Mr. Gold. You just want me to believe that. But I won't believe a lie. And what would Belle think, if she could hear you talking like this?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied tersely. "I don't _need_ Belle anymore. Not when I have Lacey, who loves me just as I am."

"But deep down, Lacey _is_ Belle. You made this Curse; you know exactly what it does to us. It brings out deeply buried parts of us – and normally, we're stronger than those parts. We _all_ have good and bad in us. Strength and weakness, love and hate. The happiest person in the world goes through sad times, because we all contain contradictions within us. But every day, we choose which side of ourselves we are going to be. Sometimes it's a conscious choice, but most of the time we aren't even aware that we've made a choice. But the Curse skewed things. Turned a man who is kind and understanding into someone who can't forgive the weakness in others. You _can_ be good, Rumpelstiltskin, even without Belle's influence. But it's easier, less frightening, to go back to what you know. You choose, however subconsciously, to be evil, but that doesn't make you a monster."

His teeth were clenched, but he didn't respond. He didn't want to argue this with Paige. Given her stubbornness, she would always have some answer for anything he said. Instead, he decided to _show _her what he was truly like.

Almost gently, he cupped the side of her head, his fingers buried in her hair. Then he made a fist, gripping her hair tightly. He pulled down, forcing her to her knees. When he let go, she looked down at what she was suddenly wearing - a black-and-gold underbust corset with garter straps, sheer stockings, and strappy gold sandals with five-inch heels. She looked up at him, her expression steady. If he thought he could still embarrass her with this sort of thing, he was in for a surprise.

"Mr. Gold," she whispered, "please, let me help you."

He gritted his teeth at the look in her eyes. "I don't want your pity. I want your mouth on me, but I'm in control this time, dearie." He shook a finger at her. "No going slow just to tease me!"

Paige ignored his threat. If he did try to force himself deeper into her mouth, she knew she could take it. It wouldn't be pleasant, but she could handle it – and she would, because if she didn't, he would think he had convinced her that he was a monster. "This isn't pity, Mr. Gold," she said. "Pity is condescending. This is called compassion, because it breaks my heart to see you in so much pain."

In a puff of purple smoke, Paige's tongue appeared in his hand. Paige put a hand to her throat, looking startled. Smirking, Gold said, "Well, then, shut up and give me pleasure to overcome my pain!" His pants were suddenly undone.

But Paige just folded her arms over her breasts and looked up at him, one eyebrow quirked. She was fighting an amused smile.

"What could possibly be so funny about your current… situation?" sneered Gold.

Raising her hands, she signed, **You say you want my mouth on you, and then you remove my tongue? The part of my mouth that makes it **_**possible**_** for me to pleasure you this way? **The amused smile grew.

"Don't you dare laugh at me," he snarled, squeezing her tongue. He watched, satisfied, as her face contorted in pain. But as soon as it passed, her eyes held that look again. He still thought of it as pity, no matter what she wanted to call it. "You want to feel pain, dove? Well, how about I crush your tongue?"

**Go ahead, **she signed. **You think that will prove you a monster in my eyes? I know why you're doing this. You're in pain, so you're lashing out. And it seems like I'm bearing the brunt of that – do you know why? I do. It's because you know that I care about you. You **_**know**_** you can't scare me away this easily. And also, you're threatening to crush my tongue because we **_**both**_** know that this isn't real. When I wake, my tongue will be fine, and any pain you've caused will be little more than a fading memory.**

"Bah!" He threw her tongue at her face. She couldn't help flinching slightly, but it didn't actually hit her. It melted into purple smoke that seemed to be sucked into her mouth, and in a moment, she could feel her tongue back in its proper place. She swallowed, just because she could again. Gold reached down and grabbed her hair. His pants were down around his thighs now, but before he could shove himself into Paige's mouth, he heard a crying sound. Paige turned her head sharply to one side, which must have pulled her hair quite painfully, but she simply stared off into the distance.

"What is _that_?" Gold snapped. When he looked down at Paige, he saw some sort of fluid leaking from her nipples. What on earth was going on here?

"That's our daughter," she said, turning to meet his eyes. "It's time to feed her again. But we can finish what we're doing here first, if that's what you want. It won't hurt her any to wait a few minutes, and I doubt this will take longer than that." Paige looked up at Gold calmly. He just stood there, gripping her hair. He turned his head to stare off in the direction Paige had been looking. "I'm ready for you, Mr. Gold," Paige said, to remind him. "She can wait for a bit, true, but I don't want this to take _too_ long."

Gold let go of her hair suddenly. "Go to her," he said, his voice rough. He turned away so Paige couldn't see the expression on his face. "We'll continue this another night." He disappeared.

* * *

><p>When Paige woke, she burst into nearly-silent tears. It wasn't that she had been afraid of him, but she had hoped that, somehow, proving to him that she believed in him would help. But it was Belle he needed, and he had been given Lacey in her place. Lacey, who seemed to <em>like<em> the darkness in him. Paige knew that there was still good in him, but if Lacey didn't regain her true memories soon, this could bury the goodness so deep that he might never find it again.

The little monitor still carried Aurelia's cries into Paige's bedroom. Paige got up and, half-blinded by her tears, stumbled down the hall to the nursery. She tried to be as quiet as she could so she wouldn't wake Mike, who was sleeping downstairs on her couch. Paige was a little surprised that Aurelia's cries hadn't woken him yet.

The bed that had once stood in here was now down in her basement, but her mother's rocking chair was in the room, with one cushion on the seat and another tied to the rungs that made up the back of the chair, so when she had lifted Aurelia out of the crib, Paige settled herself in the chair and bared one of her breasts.

But the baby wouldn't latch on. She wasn't exactly crying anymore, but she was still fussing. Paige lifted her daughter to her shoulder and cuddled her. Paige was still crying, but as she held her little girl, she felt a strange sensation. It almost seemed as though Aurelia was trying to comfort her! As if their roles had reversed, and Paige was the weeping child who needed her mother's arms. And it seemed to work – Paige _did_ feel better after a few minutes. She wished that her mother was still alive. Had Aenor felt similar moments from any of her own children? Or was Aurelia unique in this? Or was this just one of those strange things that happened to _all_ mothers, and no one really talked about it? Was Aurelia, out of some inborn instinct, actually trying to console her mommy, or was Paige simply drawing the comfort she needed from the bond between mother and daughter?

When she tried to feed the baby again, it worked. She still seemed so tiny, and it soothed Paige even further to watch her daughter suckle. The implicit trust and love in those tiny eyes… Paige knew that, no matter what the other consequences, she could never, ever wish that this hadn't happened to her. As Aurelia's eyes fluttered sleepily, Paige smiled. The tears that pricked her eyes now were happy ones.

* * *

><p>Gold woke, breathing hard and staring up into the darkness of his bedroom. For a moment, he wanted to weep for what he was doing to Paige, but then a darker thought surfaced. Somehow, he had to prove to Paige that he truly <em>was<em> a monster, and that she was wasting her time trying to convince herself otherwise.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode, "The Evil Queen." From what I can tell when Hook sees Gold and Lacey through his spyglass, it seems like she is still in the same outfit from her date with Gold. Also, they seem to be coming out of the Rabbit Hole, and in the episode "Lacey," Gold goes around behind the Rabbit Hole, where he then beats the former Sheriff of Nottingham with his cane. It's not too far of a jump to think that Lacey might have talked Gold into going into the bar with her so she could get a drink or two, although I could be wrong and they're coming around the corner from where Gold's car is parked. So this episode seems to start on the same night when "Lacey" ended, then proceeds to the following day.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Please take a moment to review this chapter!


	43. S2 Ch22 - Wilderness Wisdom

Almost done with Season 2, finally!

As usual, I do not own any rights to the show itself or to ABC's characters and plot lines.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Eliza's grandmother, Hazel, was sickly as a child. She was near death at one point, and Nerean, a faun, left his home and his own kind to tend to her.

~In Storybrooke, Paige's daughter is born early, but makes remarkable progress and is released after a little less than a week and a half. The fact that Mike has returned and promised to spend the night in case anything happens factored in to the doctor's decision. Unfortunately, Mike still doesn't know what he wants to do about his future with Paige. Against her better judgment, Paige listens to her heart and gives Mike another chance.

Gold is once again embracing his darkness. Though it pains him, he is rude to Paige because of Lacey. He refuses to help Paige find her brothers, and lets Lacey throw away the toy Paige had made as a child. But later, he rescues the toy from the trash can and tucks it into his wall safe, while Lacey isn't around. Gold steps into Paige's dreams that night, partly wanting to apologize, but when Paige looks at him so trustingly, his darker nature sets in, and he tries to prove to Paige that he truly is a monster. Paige still sees the good in him, but before he can get too rough with her, Aurelia's cries break into the dream. Paige is willing to let Gold go ahead and try to prove how horrible he is, but he tells her to go take care of their daughter, threatening to continue another night.

While Paige was in the hospital, Mother Superior came to tell her who had really died the night Cora killed to frame Regina. It was Ed Grove, formerly Sir Elrick – Eliza's protector.

* * *

><p>"I would prefer not to even consider asking <em>him<em> for help," the queen said vehemently.

Her husband leaned forward in his throne, leaning his arms on his knees. His throne sat on the same dais as the queen's, and at the same height, but since she was the ruler, the back of her throne was decorated with diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds in a pattern that suggested a blueberry bush that was partly in bloom and partly in fruit. The design was placed to show above her head as she sat on her throne. The king's throne was just as well made, and had a similar motif, but his was enameled rather than jeweled. Neither throne looked feminine or masculine; the jeweled throne was made for the ruler of the kingdom, whether a king or a queen, while the enameled one was for the wife or husband of the current ruler.

The king sighed heavily. "What choice have we? Our daughter will die without his aid."

"But his prices…" The queen trailed off. Her husband knew as much as she did about the Dark One's prices. It was all only hearsay, and from one or two stories could have been dismissed as an over-exaggeration, but every source they heard from agreed. The Dark One's prices were said to be terrible, sometimes heartbreaking, to pay.

After a long moment of silence, the king stood up. "It is up to you, my Queen. If the choice were mine, I would summon the Dark One, and the price be damned. But you are Lanae's heir, and _you_ must make this decision." He cleared his throat roughly. "I will be by Hazel's side if you need me."

As he strode across the room, the queen watched. She looked pained, near tears, but when she stood up, her voice was strong as she called after her husband. "Wait!" When he stopped and turned, she nodded and met his eyes, taking a few steps toward him. Then she called out, "Rumpelstiltskin!" in a loud voice.

Several moments went by, and the queen spoke much louder. "Rumpelstiltskin!"

"No need to shout!" came a mocking, almost sing-songy voice from behind her. In slightly more normal tones, the Dark One added, "I heard you the first time, dearie!"

The queen could see that her husband was every bit as startled as she was, even though he had been facing her and should have seen the Dark One appear behind her. When she turned, Rumpelstiltskin was lounging on her throne, with one leg draped almost elegantly over the armrest. He ignored the jeweled design on the back of the throne, instead watching the royal couple contemplatively.

As she took in the gold-tinted visage of the one she had summoned, the queen swallowed hard. His eyes were shrewd and knowing, in a way that tightened her gut. She wondered if he already knew what she was going to ask, and what he wanted for it.

Clearing her throat, the queen tried to remain composed. But there was a hint of nervousness she couldn't hide. She felt her husband's hand on her arm, and she gave a small breath of relief at knowing he was right there with her.

"My daughter, Hazel," the queen said, her voice smooth. "She is very ill. All of the doctors and healers in our kingdom are unable to save her." The queen's voice was bleak as she added, "If she is not healed soon, she will die."

"What do you expect _me_ to do? I'm the Dark One, not a doctor." Rumpelstiltskin sounded vaguely amused by the unspoken request in the queen's words.

Here the queen's voice broke. She could no longer keep her grief and desperation hidden. "Please! You _must_ know of some potion or spell, or some healer who can do what we ask!"

"Oh, I _must_, eh, dearie?" As he stood, Rumpelstiltskin held up his hand to stop the queen from responding to that. "Well, well, then. It would seem you haven't conferred with _every _healer in your kingdom." He spun out the word "every" into three syllables. He smirked as he said, "There is an, ah, _enclave,_ if you will, of fauns living in the forest. Oh, I suppose that, technically speaking, they _are_ outside the realm in which your _subjects_ live, but according to the maps in your own possession, that part of the forest is also under your purview. Now, I don't imagine you could ever rule the fauns, or elicit taxes from them, but there _is_ one young faun with a veritable talent for healing, and also an immense curiosity about humans. If you could convince him to help, _he_ could heal your daughter."

"How can we find him?" the king asked, his voice raw.

"More importantly," added the queen, "how can we convince him?"

Rumpelstiltskin steepled his fingers and eyed the queen shrewdly. "He likes to try to observe men unseen. The village of Blue Forest lies closest to where the fauns have made their home. Find a lightning-split tree just inside the bounds of the forest – that is where he hides. And assuming you can persuade him to talk to you, simply tell him that you will do everything in your power to help him learn all about humans."

The queen wondered how difficult this was going to be. But she knew that she must try. Her voice shook a little when she asked, "And what is your price?"

"Nothing you can't afford to pay," the impish man insinuated. He let the silence stretch on, enjoying the looks on their faces as they tormented themselves with wild speculation.

"What I want is simple. And if you cannae save your child, why, then, you'll owe me naught." He gave a small giggle. "I want a small vial of the very potion the faun devises to save your daughter." At their expressions, he added, "Worry you not, dearies, just a wee sample for me will not affect the girl's recovery – so long as the faun agrees to heal her, the girl… will live." He gestured, and a contract and quill appeared in his hands. "Do we have an accord?"

As the queen reached for the quill, she gave her husband a relieved glance. Rumpelstiltskin giggled, almost inaudibly. He didn't know why he would one day want that potion, but he sensed that his use of it would be something this queen would regret, if she were still alive to see the result. In the long run, it wasn't as painless a price as she thought it would be.

"How will we –" the queen started, but Rumpelstiltskin cut her off.

"I shall return to collect my payment, dearie – you need do nothing more than convince the faun to leave his forests." He snickered, and the contract and quill disappeared as the king moved to take the quill, intending to sign alongside his wife. Deliberately ignoring the king as if to imply that the king was both powerless and meaningless, the impish little man took a few steps back, then vanished in a swirl of red smoke.

The queen grasped her husband's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Go to our daughter. But first, have them send for my huntswoman."

The king nodded. He had been irritated at first by the Dark One's obvious slight, but by the way his wife clung to his hand, she certainly didn't find her husband to be unimportant or meaningless. The king lifted their clasped hands. He planted a kiss on his wife's knuckles, then drew back, still holding her hand. His eyes held a gratitude that he could not find words to convey. He thought briefly of kneeling, but the queen had made it clear that she did not expect such groveling from the man she loved, so he simply bowed his head and turned to leave, dropping her hand almost reluctantly. If he had looked back, he would have seen the tears in the queen's eyes. She had made this deal as much for herself as for him, since Hazel was their only child, but also for the good of the kingdom as well, because the girl was the only true heir to the throne.

* * *

><p>Lacey didn't know who that man was, but she was furious. <em>Dismissed <em>like that, like she was some kind of weak, delicate woman who should be shielded from everything unpleasant. She would have liked to see Gold hurt that man. How dare he, whoever he was, treat Mr. Gold that way?

As she approached Granny's, she saw Paige, the mute girl who had come to Gold the day before with that shoddy toy. There was a man with her, and Paige was carrying a car seat with a baby in it. Lacey felt herself start to strut.

"Well, if it isn't the town mute," she said derisively. The man with Paige blinked as though confused, but Paige simply raised an eyebrow.

Paige looked at Lacey's outfit – a far-too-short black skirt or dress, with a red blazer over top, black tights, and very high heels. She handed the car seat to Mike and signed, **Take her inside, get us a booth. I'll be there in just a minute.** When Mike looked back over at Lacey and then back to Paige again, she added, **I can handle this. Go. Please.**

Mike frowned, but he did as Paige asked.

Pulling out her ever-present notebook and pen, Paige wrote, _What do you want, Lacey?_ She held up the notebook, but didn't hand it to Lacey.

"Oh, just thought I'd say hi," Lacey said, her tone of voice making it clear she was mocking Paige. She nodded her head toward Granny's. "So is that why you wanted to trade in that hideous toy? So you could get something new for your baby?" She gave a small snicker and looked Paige up and down. "Is the baby your, um, _excuse_ for being fat?"

Paige blinked and marked out her first sentence to write something more. _You're jealous!_

When Lacey read that, she scoffed. "As if!"

_Look at you. You're a beautiful girl, how can you possibly be so insecure? Is that why you dress like that?_ Paige had wanted to accuse Lacey of dressing like a slut, but she decided not to use that word after all.

After a moment, Lacey said, "Everyone talks about this Belle person like she was some kind of saint, and I just want to make sure everyone knows that I'm not some goody-two-shoes. From what I can tell, I'm pretty sure Belle never dressed this way. I guess she was too prudish to flaunt what she's got, and I'm not insecure – I'm sexy." She eyed Paige again. "Maybe _you're_ the one who's insecure."

_Believe me, I _know_ you're not Belle. She was worth a hundred of you. She was a good person, deep down where it counts – if you were more like Belle, maybe you would have more confidence in yourself, and not dress like a slut._ While Lacey read that note, Paige tried to calm her heart. She had gone there, had basically called Lacey a slut. She still knew she shouldn't have, but her temper was getting the best of her.

For a moment, Lacey's lips tightened in anger. Then she smiled coldly. "I'm thin, I'm sexy, and I'm with the powerful man in town. You're just jealous of me."

Paige wrote another note. She tore the page from her notebook and tossed it in Lacey's direction, then walked into the diner without looking back.

Lacey tried to catch the note, but it hit the ground anyway. When she had retrieved it, she read over it quickly, then crumpled it up. Smoothing it back out again, she re-read it, then shot a glare in the direction of the diner's door before dropping the paper back to the sidewalk and stalking on toward the pawn shop.

The last note, under all the scratched-out lines from the rest of their conversation, read, _Nothing in this world, not love, money, or all my dreams coming true, could _ever_ tempt me to be you for even a minute._ Then the note blew across the street and into a storm drain.

* * *

><p>Inside the diner, Mike asked, "What the hell was that? Wasn't that Belle? Why is she dressed like that?"<p>

Paige raised her hands almost before Mike even spoke, but didn't sign right away. She was still fighting the traces of her temper. When Mike's questions stopped, Paige took a deep breath before signing. **Yes, that was Belle. But a few weeks ago, she was shot by a pirate, and fell over the town line. She's forgotten her true self, and for a while, she was in the hospital with no memories at all. But now it seems like she got her memories back somehow, only it's her Curse-memories, not her real ones. She calls herself Lacey and dresses like a slut, and she seems to like the darkness in Mr. Gold. In fact, where Belle helped him be a better man, Lacey is making him worse.**

Mike glowered. "Has he hurt you?"

Rolling her eyes, Paige signed, **No! Why do you always assume he deliberately hurts me?**

Still tense, Mike took a deep breath to try to calm himself. "I'm sorry, Paige. It's just – well, everything I heard about him back in our land, and everything I saw for myself, just makes me think of him as a bad man who does terrible, hurtful things to people. I know you say you've seen a different side of him, Paige, but I haven't. So it's hard for me to get around what I've seen, what I _know_." He cleared his throat and wrapped Paige's hands in his own so she couldn't interrupt him. Though he wanted to make eye contact, he was afraid of what he would see, so he only glanced once at Paige's eyes. "But I _am_ sorry, truly. I spoke without thinking. It's just… well, I worry about you. If I could, I would keep you from every single harm that exists. So whenever I think of you being hurt, it kills me." With a slightly sheepish look on his face, he added, "And you know, by 'hurt' I don't just mean physically. I know you care about him, and that means he could say cruel things that would hurt you emotionally. And I'd protect you from that, too, if I could."

Tentatively, he finally met her eyes. There was no longer any anger there, so he ventured an apologetic half-smile.

Pulling her hands out of his, Paige replied, **I know you want to protect me, Mike. But we've had this conversation before. Not only is it impossible to completely protect someone that way, but I don't want or need constant protection. I'm a big girl, I can handle things like that myself.**

She started to sign to him the entire confrontation she'd just had with Lacey. When she was done, Mike laughed.

"You're right, you handled that pretty well." He saw the trace of guilt in her eyes, and added, "Sometimes people deserve to get a taste of your anger. And Lacey definitely deserved it!"

Paige smiled back at him. Just then, a waitress came out to take their order. When she left, Paige looked around the room. She had hoped Ruby would be working, but she didn't see her friend in the dining room. But then, a man at the counter caught her attention. It was the same man she had seen with Emma in Gold's shop, the man who had called Gold "Papa." That must be his son, Baelfire! Paige wanted to meet him, but she was nervous at the same time. Then it suddenly hit her that this man was Aurelia's half-brother. **Mike, I'll be right back,** she signed.

Following her gaze, Mike wondered why she was so interested in that man. He felt a brief flash of jealousy, but when he saw that Paige was a little bit nervous and scared, he realized that something else was going on here. "Who is he?"

**I'll be right back,** she repeated, not really having heard Mike's question. Without looking back at Mike, she stood and crossed the diner to perch on a stool next to the man.

Neal glanced at Paige. As soon as he realized that she wasn't anyone he knew, he turned his attention back to the waitress bringing him coffee.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything else?" she asked with a smile.

"Nah," Neal said, glancing at the clock. It wasn't long past six, but after what he had just seen his father doing, he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. "It's too early in the morning for food." He managed a wry smile as he stirred the creamer into his coffee.

The waitress turned to Paige and asked, "What about you, hon? What can I get you?" The waitresses were all aware that Paige couldn't speak, but they also knew that Paige carried pen and paper with her, so if she needed something, she would be able to communicate.

Paige smiled politely and held up her hand to show that she didn't need anything at the moment. Then she pointed over to the table where Mike was checking on Aurelia. The waitress smiled back and said, "Oh, I'll tell Granny you brought the baby in!"

Neal didn't mean to eavesdrop, but when he heard something about a baby, he couldn't help but look over where Paige had pointed. He couldn't see the baby, but there was a car seat with a crocheted blanket over it that looked like it had blueberries on it, of all things. As he turned back, he caught Paige's eye, and gave her a half-smile.

Before he could turn away, Paige put a hand on his arm. He looked at her again, surprised. Not only by the fact that a complete stranger had touched him, but by the look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, did you need something?" he asked. When she licked her lips but didn't answer, he said, "Are you alright?"

Paige took a deep breath. She realized she had been examining his face, looking for any resemblance to his father. She didn't really see much, herself, but she supposed that if she got to know him better, she might be able to work it out. She couldn't help but wonder if he made similar facial expressions, or something like that. But she had kept him waiting long enough. She raised one hand to pat her throat, hoping the gesture would help him understand that she couldn't speak.

As she set her notebook on the counter and raised the pen, he gave a sharp intake of breath. "You're that girl, the one my father called." Remembering that Gold had called two women that day, he added, "The one who can't speak."

Paige nodded. Neal looked around at the car seat again. "Is that…" He broke off and swallowed hard. "Is that my sister?"

Biting her lip, Paige nodded again.

"Oh, my God," Neal moaned, looking stunned. Then he realized how Paige might take that and added, "I'm sorry, I mean, I didn't realize you were that close to your due date. Um… how old is she?"

_About a week and a half. And I wasn't close to my due date. She was actually born about eleven weeks early. But she's doing much better than most preemies, because of magic._ While Neal read that note, Paige looked toward the booth thoughtfully. When Neal looked up again, clearly not sure what to say, Paige wrote more. _I just worry about it, you know? It's really because of magic that she's okay right now, and as I'm sure you're well aware, all magic comes with a price._

Paige blinked back a few tears. She hadn't fully realized that she was concerned about the magic involved in her daughter's miraculous health until just now. But what price would Aurelia have to pay?

"Yeah, I know," Neal replied, his face twisted into a grimace as he remembered the time when his father first became the Dark One. He hesitated for a moment, then added, "Listen, if there's anything I can do, I mean, to help… with anything… just, um, ask, you know?" He dropped his eyes for a moment. "I mean, I don't know how much longer I'll be here, but I'd like to help you, if I can."

_Would you like to hold her?_ Paige wrote.

"Oh, uh, yeah, if that's okay," he answered.

Paige stood and gestured for him to follow her. Neal picked up his coffee and walked over to the booth. Paige was signing to Mike. **This is Rumpelstiltskin's son,** she told him. **Baelfire.**

Mike gave Paige a shocked look. He had never known that the Dark One had a son. But he stood and offered his hand. "I'm Mike, Paige's, ah, friend." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Nice to meet you, um, Baelfire."

"Actually, it's Neal in this world. And I prefer that, really."

"Sorry," Mike said. "Neal. Of course."

Paige was still struggling a little with the straps that held Aurelia in the car seat. Mike leaned over to help, and Paige felt that her hands went even clumsier when they touched Mike's. She blushed slightly, and hoped that Mike hadn't noticed her awkwardness. When they got the baby unbuckled, Paige lifted her and gently placed her in Neal's arms. Mike murmured something about being careful with her head, but Neal didn't respond. He couldn't take his eyes off the tiny baby that was his half-sister.

* * *

><p>Neal sat in his room, thinking. Paige seemed like a sweet girl, and her daughter was adorable, but it was still strange to think that, after all these years, he had a sister. He wished his father would come to his senses, and not screw up this kid's life, too. But from what he'd seen this morning, he didn't hold out much hope for that.<p>

When a knock sounded at the door, he jumped, startled. He could hardly believe that it was after eight already – where had the past two hours gone?

He opened the door, surprised to see that it was Emma.

"I need to search your room, for real this time." Her face was set in a grim, determined expression. He grinned widely, amused to see her playing the cop.

"You want to tell me what this is about, Sheriff?" he asked playfully.

As she asked about Tamara, it took Neal several moments to realize that Emma still didn't trust his fiancée. That wasn't like him; usually, he could read Emma like a book. He hadn't realized just how much it had thrown him to meet his little half-sister.

* * *

><p>The queen started to open her mouth, but closed it before she made a fool of herself. Anyone could see that the tree before her was the lightning-struck tree the Dark One had spoken of. It seemed strange to be out in the forest like this with no guards aside from her huntswoman. The two women were dressed alike; the breeches and short tunic that the huntswoman wore to do her job not only blended well with the forest around her, but it was far more practical than a gown or skirt.<p>

Not letting the strangeness of the clothes bother her, the queen stared intently at the split tree ahead of her. The two had been hiding here more than half the night, and it had been a very long time since the queen had had a need to remain so still for so long. Her days of hunting as a youth were behind her, but she took care to stretch each muscle individually, and with the smallest motion she could manage.

When would the faun arrive? He had been here every day, or so the huntswoman had said. What if today, he decided to remain in the forest with his brethren? What if all of this was for naught?

Just as the queen opened her mouth again to ask how long they would wait for the faun to show, she felt the other woman squeeze her thigh. It was a warning gesture, an indication that the queen should remain silent. Though the huntswoman's eyes had never left the tree, her peripheral vision had caught the movement of the queen's mouth, and understood the intent. Barely moving her face, the woman met the queen's eyes, then flicked her gaze over to the split tree and back again. Blinking in confusion, the queen turned her own eyes to the tree.

For a long moment, she stared, seeing nothing and wondering why her huntswoman was acting so concerned. Then she had to swallow hard to stifle a gasp. The faun was already there! She hadn't seen him approach, and even now, he seemed to fade into the tree. The only parts that didn't quite blend in were his horns, which hadn't curled all the way around, but she could see that they would, eventually. How long had he been there?

The huntswoman had planned a distraction. Without telling them why, she had arranged for two of the farmers nearby to take a brief morning rest only a stone's throw from the stricken tree. She had asked them to bring a small meal and just talk for a while, and she had said that if she caught her quarry, there would be a gold piece in it for each of them. Though they were curious, they had known better than to ask what she was after. The two women could see them now, bantering as they approached the edge of the woods.

Though the sun was scarcely an hour past its rising, the farmers had been at work for hours already. They sat down gladly, stretching out their arms and legs in sweeping gestures that made the queen a little envious. She felt extremely cramped in the small hunter's blind that the huntswoman had slowly crafted over the span of a few weeks. Though the wait was worrisome given Hazel's condition, that caution had been necessary; too much change too quickly might easily have spooked the faun, causing him to find another hiding spot.

With a light touch on the queen's wrist, the huntswoman led her slowly, cautiously out of the blind, which seemed impossibly small. Both women took great care in placing their feet to make as little noise as humanly possible.

By the time they had come up behind the faun, the two men were speaking regretfully of the need to get back to work. The queen glanced at the huntswoman out of the corner of her eye. She was shocked to see a drawn bow in the other woman's hands. But before she could react, the faun heard them and spun to face them. His eyes were wide with terror, because the arrow was pointed directly between his eyes.

The queen felt her heart melt. He looked so young, and so scared! She put up a hand to push the bow aside. "Not like this," she said softly, her voice hoarse.

The instant that the arrow was no longer aimed at him, the faun bounded away on his goat-like legs. He paused by a large tree and looked back, panting. Before he could turn to go, the queen called out, "I will help you learn everything you want to know about humans!"

At the sound of her voice, the faun leaped sideways, behind the tree. At first, the queen thought he had simply kept running, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the two women who, as he would see it, had threatened him. Then she saw him edge out from behind the tree so he could see her, though he kept most of his body hidden from view.

"You… you will?" he asked. His voice was unlike that of any human; to the queen, it almost sounded like a young tree speaking, but it wasn't an unpleasant voice.

"I swear it, by everything I hold dear," she said solemnly.

He stepped out from behind the tree in a movement that reminded the queen of a bird checking for predators. "But… what be you wanting in return?"

The queen cleared her throat. "Only that you treat my daughter's illness. I… I have heard that fauns have different ways with medicine than humans, and no human doctor has been able to help her. Please!"

The faun made a motion as if he wanted to hide behind the tree again, but he remained in the open. "And what of your promise if I am having not the skills for the healing of your daughter?"

She didn't want to admit that the Dark One had sent her here – she imagined that even the fauns must have heard of Rumpelstiltskin's evil, and she very much feared that the faun would not help if he knew. So instead of telling him that she knew for a fact that he was quite capable of saving her daughter, she simply said, "I ask only that you try." She held out her hand and took slow, deliberate steps toward him, the way she would approach a skittish horse. "No matter the result, I will do everything in my power to help you learn whatever it is you wish to know."

The faun watched her advance, shying nervously now and then. But his curiosity won out, and when the queen got close enough, he reached out a shaking hand to hers, watching her face all the while. He could not see any dishonesty in her expression, but then again, he did not know humans well. Even so, he could see how glad she was to have him treat her daughter. As he took the human queen's hand, he found himself hoping that he wouldn't fail.

* * *

><p>Paige was pleased by how well the doctor's visit had gone. Aurelia was in excellent health after her night away from the hospital, so Dr. Solano and Dr. Whale had no problem letting Paige keep her at home again. But both doctors had agreed that one or both of them needed to examine the baby daily, just to be sure. It was such an unprecedented situation that, in spite of the fact that magic had been involved, they felt it would be better to be overly cautious.<p>

Mike had asked if he could sleep in his own bed tonight, pointing out that his bedroom was just on the other side of the wall from Paige's, and that he had a key to her side of the duplex. Paige hadn't really thought of it, but when Mike pointed out that he hadn't slept in his own bed in a few weeks, Paige felt a little bit guilty that he had stayed on her couch the night before.

The doctors had both frowned at the question, but given that he was still so close, they decided it would be alright. Dr. Solano openly admitted that he would feel better if someone were right there with Paige, but when Paige asked him to, he decided to allow it.

Now, Mike and Paige were trying to hook the carrier back into the base to make it a car seat again. Even though they had just done the same thing a little while ago, after leaving Granny's to come to the hospital, it was proving rather difficult. But suddenly, everything just clicked into place.

In a surprised voice, Mike said, "There we go! We got it!" He shot a big, goofy grin at Paige, who couldn't help but return the smile.

But she couldn't help herself. **Thank you, Captain Obvious,** she signed, her own smile widening into a grin every bit as goofy and self-pleased as Mike's.

Without even trying to keep a straight face, Mike saluted with a grandiose flourish. "At your service, Princess!"

Paige ducked her head in what Mike recognized as her way of laughing without making a sound. In what seemed like a very natural gesture, he took her hand and pulled her in close for a kiss.

The kiss took Paige very much by surprise. It took a moment before she relaxed into Mike's arms. But just as the kiss began to deepen, Mike pulled away suddenly. "Sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. He wouldn't meet Paige's eyes, and though she knew he was feeling awkward and uncomfortable, she wasn't quite sure why. Was it just that it had been so long since they had been this close? Because he still wasn't sure what he wanted in the long run? Or was there another reason?

Before she could ask, a horn tooted nearby, startling the both of them. Aurelia, though, slept through it. Paige was surprised.

When she turned, she saw Dr. Horne parking his car a few spaces over. Getting out of the passenger's side of the car was Lydia Grove, Ed's sister. Paige felt her stomach clench. No matter what anyone said, she still felt guilty over her own relief at discovering that it wasn't Mike that Cora had killed. Also, she knew how much she loved her brothers, so she could imagine the pain of losing one of them. The swan spell was bad enough, but if one of them actually died, it would be devastating for her.

Lydia's eyes were filled with grief, but she also looked nervous. "Princess," she said formally, dipping in a suggestion of a curtsey. "We're having a memorial service for my brother," she said, meeting Paige's eyes almost hesitantly. "I know it's short notice – like, _really_ short, but I was hoping – that is, my brothers and I, well, we would like you to speak at the service. You were one of the most important people in Elrick's life, and when he found you again here… I know his interest in you was, well, maybe somewhat inappropriate, but if you're willing, I think it would ease his spirit if you spoke in his memory."

Paige blinked back tears. **Of course,** she signed. **It's the least I can do.** Horne translated.

"When is the service?" Mike asked.

Lydia flushed. "Well, like I said, it's really short notice and all, but… well, we've been asking everyone to meet at the graveside in about forty-five minutes." With only a quick glance at their reactions, she hurriedly added, "I'm so sorry, but my father decided we needed to have a service for him, and he wants to do it today. And then my brothers decided that our whole family should go out on the boat this afternoon for a memorial sail, and go to Ed's favorite spots along the coastline, and his favorite fishing spot, and that tiny little island he likes, so it pretty much has to be this morning."

Paige put a hand on Lydia's shoulder, and the girl finally stopped her rushed explanation. Then she pulled her hand back to sign, **It's okay. It's your family's decision when to do this, and I'll be honored to be a part of it.**

When Horne translated, Lydia's face brightened up in a relieved smile. "Thank you, Your Highness!"

Paige asked Horne to remind Lydia that the girl didn't have to be so formal, then told Mike she had a stop to make before they went to the graveyard. After a moment, Paige decided she had two stops to make.

* * *

><p>The queen eyed the cup of medicine next to the faun's hand. It wasn't a particularly large cup, but if the contents tasted as bitter as they smelled, it would not be easy for anyone to drink the whole thing down.<p>

"Is that all she will need, Doctor Nerean?" the queen asked.

Cleaning and organizing the instruments he had used in making the medicine, the faun replied quietly, "I am knowing as little of that as you are, good Queen. After the princess is drinking this dose, I will be able for the telling of any further necessity." When the queen had first called him Doctor, he had insisted that the title was unnecessary, but she had refused to back down. If he was here to cure her daughter, he deserved the title. Nerean would have preferred that she wait to see if his medicine was effective, but in the long run, he supposed it didn't much matter what title humans might give him.

After she cleared her throat, the queen said, "May I take it to her?"

The faun nodded gravely. "Be sure she is drinking all of it," he instructed.

* * *

><p>In Hazel's darkened bedchamber, the king waited with a small vial. Since the queen's hands proved steadier, she was the one who carefully poured out a sample of the medicine. But before she could turn to give the rest to her daughter, the Dark One appeared.<p>

"I see you convinced the faun, dearie," he lilted cheerfully. He held out his hand to the queen, but she drew herself up.

"My husband has what you want, Dark One," she said, her voice haughtier than she intended because she was nervous. "I must give my daughter her medicine." Though she feared Rumpelstiltskin would be angry at her for making him acknowledge her husband, she turned her back and approached the bed, which looked too large for her daughter. Having been sickly since birth, Hazel was small for her age.

But Rumpelstiltskin just smirked. This queen had some backbone, and he rather sensed that it was a trait her descendants would carry, as well. He had a strange feeling that he would have dealings with her descendants, and it always amused him to find people who thought they could stand up to him. Very few people had managed that in the many years that had passed since he gained his powers, and those who did intrigued him.

The king managed to keep his expression steady as Rumpelstiltskin's gaze turned to him. Without a word, the king held up the small vial. When the impish little man merely held out his hand, the king refused to drop the vial into the waiting hand at first, but the growing irritation on the Dark One's face finally unnerved the king. But he placed the vial into the outstretched hand rather than dropping it, very nearly touching Rumpelstiltskin's skin in the process. Even when cowed, this king still had a backbone, as well. Perhaps the queen's descendants would be even more intriguing than Rumpelstiltskin was expecting.

With an unnerving giggle, the Dark One disappeared into the shadows of the darkened room.

* * *

><p>Paige was nervous, not about actually speaking at the memorial service, but about the fact that she'd had almost no time to prepare. Ed's three siblings were there, with their father. Their mother had died about a year before the Dark Curse was enacted. Both of the older brothers had brought their wives, and the oldest had his two sons with him. The other brother didn't have any children, and Lydia was still unmarried.<p>

The Blue family was also there, and Alexa, the daughter, had brought a large piece of plain blue cloth to cover the gravestone, since it bore the wrong name. She had forgotten to bring safety pins to hold the cloth there, but Lydia had found some hair pins in her purse that worked almost as well.

Dr. Horne and Mike stood with Paige, and even Miles, the bee-keeper, had shown up with his girlfriend Sammi, who was also the advertising agent for the Blueberry Farm. Paige wasn't sure of all the details, but Miles and Sammi had known each other in the world that was. The fact that Sammi turned out to be a direct descendant of King Rolph had pulled the two apart before they knew they were in love, but the moment they had met here, they realized it. The part that Paige knew sounded like a somewhat romantic story.

Fawn had offered to come even though she hadn't known Ed in either land, but Paige had asked her to watch Aurelia, instead. But before Paige could think about getting the service started, her attention was caught by another arrival, this one on foot. It was Marsha! The woman had been working at the Farm ever since Paige had released her, but by that time, Ed was already missing. She had never even met the young knight.

As she approached, Marsha eyed the assembled group nervously. She had a large, flattish package in her hands. "Sorry, the Blues told me about this. And about Ed. And I know I didn't know him, so if you want me to leave, that's okay. I just wanted to give this to his family." She looked around, not quite sure who to give it to.

Lydia stepped up. "What is it?" she asked.

"Oh, um, it's one of those sky lantern things," Marsha said, blushing. "Jane, uh, Mrs. Blue, she said that your brother loved the sea, that it was his favorite thing about being in Storybrooke, and I thought maybe you guys could light this and release it out over the water. Just, um, it would probably be best if you went out on the boat so you could make sure that nothing flammable is downwind, just in case. I mean, it only burns for about five minutes or so, so it shouldn't be a problem, but better safe than sorry, right?" She gave a nervous half-chuckle. "The one I tested in my kitchen worked great, and when I made this one, I picked shades of blue to represent the ocean. And maybe it doesn't matter, but I used blue candles, too."

"Wait," Lydia said, clearly surprised. "You made this?"

Marsha nodded. "Yeah, it's just some tissue paper pieces cut out and glued together in a kind of hot-air-balloon shape, and some plastic straws for the crosspieces that hold the candles – see, I notched it to hold the candles, and also here where the two straws cross. And the ring at the bottom here is some kind of light-weight wood. I mean, whatever embroidery hoops are made out of. I found a box full of broken and mismatched embroidery hoops at a yard sale, and the sign said they were free, so I took all of them, to use for crafting, and they work great for this since they're so light."

Paige was touched by Marsha's thoughtfulness, and she could see that Ed's family was, as well. She swallowed hard. There was still a part of her that wanted to tell Marsha to leave, because it was Marsha who had put the swan spell on her brothers. But she fought down her anger. It had no place here, especially when Marsha was being so generous. She truly did seem to be trying to learn how to interact with people in a positive way.

A few tears ran down Lydia's face. "Thank you," she whispered roughly. "This is beautiful."

"And it's easy to work, too," Marsha said. "Just have someone hold up the top of the balloon part, and light the little candles. Wait for the hot air to fill up the lantern, and then release it."

Looking at her family for approval, Lydia said, "We'll take this with us this afternoon." Her father was the first to nod, even though his face was as hard as stone. Paige supposed he must be the kind of man who didn't like to show emotion in public. She wondered if he ever showed it at home, either. The oldest brother's wife took the sky lantern from Lydia and walked it over to their car.

Paige raised her hands, and Mike stepped up, then back again. Dr. Horne had known Ed for longer back in the other world, so he was going to translate Paige's eulogy. But Paige wasn't quite ready to start just yet.

**Speaking of your memorial sail for Ed,** she signed, **I stopped at Granny's on the way here and asked her to prepare a picnic lunch to take with you. It's all paid for; you just have to pick it up whenever you're ready for it.**

Lydia and her family thanked Paige profusely, but Paige just waved it away and signed that she was ready to get started, if everyone else was. She figured it was the least she could do for the family.

* * *

><p>As they walked toward the pawn shop, David and Mary Margaret found themselves passing the graveyard. It wasn't the fastest way to get to Gold's shop, but for some reason their steps had brought them here. Well, Mary Margaret knew it was more <em>her<em> steps; she had been thinking of Johanna this morning.

She thought about taking a moment to stop by the grave, but she decided that it could wait. Emma seemed really worried about Regina, and Mary Margaret knew that, if something really was wrong, she owed it to Regina to try and help. Suddenly she saw a group of people gathered around Archie's gravestone. Her stomach sank. Someone must have found out who had really died, and now the family could mourn. "David?" she said, almost hesitantly. "Let's go see who… who that is."

David took her hand and squeezed it without a word, and turned into the graveyard. As they got closer, Mary Margaret saw that Paige was among the group of mourners. "Oh, no," she whispered. She picked up her pace a little, scanning the rest of the people who had gathered. But she slowed down and sighed in relief just a moment later. Mike was there, near Paige. Mike was okay.

As they approached, Paige saw them. She stopped mid-sign and gestured to someone nearby, a man that Mary Margaret didn't recognize by name, though she thought he ran an assisted living facility for the elderly and those unable to care for themselves. Paige looked stern, but Mary Margaret couldn't imagine why.

The two met David and Mary Margaret about ten feet away from the group gathered at the graveside. Paige's hands moved in short, jerky motions, and she was clenching her jaw. Mary Margaret blinked, surprised at the anger on the mute girl's face.

"Paige is asking you for to be leaving this place. She says you are being not welcome here." The man translated, and though he spoke oddly, Mary Margaret didn't pay much attention to that.

"But why?" she asked. "I mean, who was it that… Cora _really_ killed?"

"It was being Ed Grove, whom we all were knowing as Sir Elrick in our land, the faithful protector of Princess Eliza of the Blueberry Kingdom." The man seemed sorrowful, and it took Mary Margaret a moment to remember that Paige had been Princess Eliza.

"I'm so sorry," she said compassionately.

Paige signed again, her hand motions seeming harsh.

"She is feeling quite adamantly that you should for to be leaving now. She is telling me that you were not willing for the offering of any assistance in the discovery of the truth in this matter, and as such, she is not wishing to have your presence at the funeral services of one who was being muchly important to her."

Taken aback, Mary Margaret said, "But we told you – Cora was just too powerful. We had to worry about her, first."

The man translated again. "But after this Cora was being defeated, still you were doing of nothing. It was Paige, and Paige alone, who went asking for the help of the fairies." He paused while Paige signed again. His voice was slightly apologetic as he spoke. "She is also saying that you are being not the kind-hearted and muchly caring princess that she had always been hearing of you to be. And although I am believing that she is being somewhat overly emotional on this matter, I must also be adding that the lacking of assistance from you even after your first concerns were being taken care of, well, that is not the sort of action _I_ would have been expecting of the famed Snow White, either. And so now we both are asking you to please be leaving this place, and let us be mourning privately for one whose life was being of importance to those of us who are being already gathered."

"But –" Mary Margaret started.

"Come on," David said, pulling her away. "We're not welcome here, and we have things we need to do, anyway." Mary Margaret looked back and forth between Paige and the man translating for her, surprised and confused to be treated this way. "Come on, let's go." David insisted.

She let David pull her away, but she kept looking back. Paige watched until they left the graveyard, and then the man took her arm and led her back to the grave.

"It's my fault," Mary Margaret said, tears in her eyes.

"No, it's not," David said. "Cora did this, not you."

"No, I mean… I darkened my heart, David. I should have helped her. And she's right, even after we defeated Cora… after _I_ killed her. I should have done something to help. But I didn't, because of what I've done to myself."

David wanted to comfort her, to tell her that it wasn't her fault, that she was grieving, first for her mother and Johanna, and then for doing something she knew was wrong. But he knew that she wouldn't believe him. "The only thing we can do now is focus on helping Regina."

Her face still clouded with doubt, Mary Margaret said, "You're right. But I want to find some way to make it up to Paige, if I can. She deserves that."

"And you will find a way. Because that's who you are," David said reassuringly. He was pleased to see a small smile on his wife's face, even if it was a somewhat sad one.

* * *

><p>Lacey had been distant since Gold arrived, and he wondered if something had happened. But he didn't want to pry – Lacey seemed like the type to get angry if he asked what was wrong before she was ready to talk, so he waited.<p>

And it wasn't long before she spoke up. "So, you said that mute girl used to work for you, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she went on, "What exactly did she do for you?"

Gold was instantly wary. He hoped this conversation wasn't about to go the way he suspected it was. "She worked here in the shop, keeping everything clean. She dusted, tidied, cleaned the windows, mirrors, display cases. Janitorial duties, I suppose you could say."

Lacey looked closely at his face. She couldn't read him when he got like this, so she decided to ask the question that she most wanted to have him answer. "Did you sleep with her?" She gave a small frown at the thought.

Swallowing hard, Gold considered how to answer. After a moment, he decided that if Lacey was going to be blunt, so could he. "Yes, while she was working here."

Lacey nodded curtly, her expression dark. "So, if you get bored with me, are you going to go back to her?"

The corner of Gold's mouth lifted in a small, wry smile. "It was only sex, Lacey, and she's found love now." He wasn't sure that young Michael had truly come back to Paige, but the young man was back in town; Gold had seen him just the day before. "There's nothing to go back to." He turned away so Lacey couldn't see his face. After the way he had treated Paige, and had let Lacey treat her, he had no right to expect Paige to continue to care about him.

"So, what, you were just screwing her? For… fun?" Lacey seemed a bit skeptical about it. While she waited for an answer, she hopped up to sit on his work table.

Gold frowned. He didn't particularly care for that turn of phrase. "Well, I suppose you could put it that way." Moving closer to her, he added, "But I have you now, Lacey – whyever would I go back to her? You love me as I am."

"And she was just something to keep you warm at night," Lacey said, snickering suggestively. Gold would have turned away again, but Lacey pulled him in for a kiss. Just as their lips met, the bell over the shop door jangled, and Gold stepped away. Lacey lifted her glass to take a drink.

When David and Mary Margaret swept into the back room, Gold's lip twitched as he suppressed a snarl at David's asinine comment about interrupting a party.

* * *

><p>Hazel looked up at the faun. His curling horns had seemed quite odd at first, but now she realized that he would look strange without them. The features of his face were very nearly human, but there was something just a little odd about his nose, and now that she was thinking of it, his ears looked more goat-like than human. The horns balanced out those small oddities.<p>

"How be you feeling, Princess?" he asked.

She smiled. "I still feel weak and tired, but better. Like I'm finally starting to get well again."

Nerean returned the princess's smile. "And so you are," he replied.

"Will you stay?" Hazel asked. "I think I could get over just about any sickness if you were here to care for me."

Nerean blinked. He hadn't really given much thought to what he would do when this was over. He knew the other fauns would let him come back, but they had never understood his interest in humans. They would never be cruel; it wasn't their way. But he wondered if there might be a distance in the way they treated him, now that he had spent time among humans. Generally speaking, fauns preferred to leave the world of men to the humans who seemed to want to live there, so long as the humans left the fauns and their forests alone.

He supposed he could simply wander, and see many human places, but perhaps he would learn more by staying with one family, at least for a while. Humans led such short, hectic lives, and by staying in one place, he could observe the entire lifespan. And even after a few generations of this royal family, he could still wander the human world for a time, if he felt there was still more he wanted to learn.

"I am being not very familiar with human ways," he said, "but if the king and queen are wishing this also, then stay I shall."

Hazel's smile grew, and she said, "Oh, I am sure Mother will wish it, and Father, too." Her smile dimmed and she sagged back into her pillows a little bit.

Nerean placed his hand on the child's forehead, but her fever had not returned. "Be sleeping now, young Hazel," he said softly, hoping she would find his voice soothing. It occurred to him that he didn't even know if humans found his voice pleasing or grating. Perhaps once he knew these humans better, he could ask their thoughts on the matter. But he had heard that humans often told lies, for many different reasons. He wondered how true it was. He also wondered if he would be able to distinguish the difference between truth and lies. Human expressions were so very strange.

* * *

><p>Paige was surprised that Mike had followed her into her side of the duplex after the memorial service. Not only that, but he had made her some tea while she fed Aurelia, and then helped to put the baby down for a nap. Now, Paige was sitting on her bed, leaning back on a pillow propped against the headboard, sipping her tea. Mike had made it very hot, so by the time Paige got to it, it was still quite warm. She noticed that he hadn't made a cup for himself, though.<p>

He seemed to feel awkward, but he also acted like he didn't want to leave her alone right now, and Paige thought she knew what was prompting both of those feelings in him.

She sat her mug aside to sign, **I'm okay, Mike. Ed – Elrick, he was very dear to me. He was like a brother to me, when I most needed that. But even though he's gone, and even though I'm sad, I'll be okay. You don't have to stay here if it makes you uncomfortable.**

Mike swallowed. "Why would staying make me feel uncomfortable?" He wouldn't meet Paige's eyes, but when she raised her hands to sign again, he did watch to see what she had to say.

**Because of who's been in this bed with me. I know you're thinking of that. And I think that's why you pulled away earlier, when you kissed me. Isn't it? **She didn't look like she really needed the answer to that.

But Mike nodded. He tried to hide a shudder. Turning away and looking at the jewelry boxes and scattered knick-knacks on her dresser, he kept his mouth shut. He knew he was likely to say something hurtful otherwise. He reached out to pick up one small box, with no less than three clasps on the side. What could she possibly keep in here? And why would such a small box need to be so securely latched? He opened the three little clasps and saw a silver key inside. He couldn't imagine what it might unlock. Just as his finger brushed the silver, Paige snatched the box away. He hadn't noticed her coming up behind him.

Her eyes wide, Paige re-latched the box and carried it over to the nightstand by her bed. She sat it down, and signed, **Did you touch it?** When Mike nodded, she added, **No one but me is supposed to touch that. **She bit her lip, wondering why no one else was supposed to touch it.

"What is it? What does it do?" Mike asked. With a frown, he added, "Did _he_ give it to you?"

She nodded. **Mr. Gold gave it to me, and it lets me control my own dreams. Kind of like lucid dreaming, if you've ever heard of that. I choose what happens, but the reactions of anyone I choose to dream about are only my own interpretation of that person, not necessarily their true reactions in the waking world.**

"Do you use it to have sex with him again?"

Paige gave him a defiant look. **I've used it for that sometimes. But I've also used it to imagine you just holding me, loving me. The way you used to.** Part of her wanted to add that she had failed at that, and had been forced to imagine him asleep so she wouldn't have to see the accusation in his eyes, but she had a feeling that this fight was already going to be bad enough. **Once I even used it to see my brothers again, but when I woke up I couldn't stop crying.** Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears now, partly at that memory, and partly because of the fight that was starting now.

"How can I be with you if I have to worry about you using this key to dream about Gold?" Mike's voice was soft, and that unsettled Paige a lot more than shouting would have.

**If you **_**were**_** with me, I wouldn't need a way to relieve the tension.**

"So you're saying that, if we were together, you wouldn't use this key at all?" When Paige didn't answer, Mike's lips thinned in anger. "So you _would_ still use it."

Clenching her jaw, Paige signed, **Not for sex. But he **_**is**_** my friend, and sometimes I would want to talk to him. And if Lacey is around for any length of time… Well, I can't talk to the man himself, not as he is now. Lacey thinks she can treat me like dirt, and I have no doubt that she would expect him to act the same. So those dreams might be the only way I **_**can**_** talk to the good man I know is in there.** Her stomach tightened at the thought. She didn't want to lose Gold, because the dreams really just weren't the same.

Mike crossed his arms. "But how can I _know_ that, Paige? How can I be sure you're not screwing him in those dreams?"

**Even though it's been broken, I hate the Curse. You were never this insecure in the world that was. You used to understand that you are my one true love. And now? Now all you do is fight with me over your own insecurities.**

"My insecurities? Paige, you've spent the past twenty-eight years cheating on me! How is that supposed to make me trust you?"

**Yes, I remembered who you were to me, but you? You had no interest in me whatsoever. And at the time, I felt as though I was trapped in that situation. I spent those twenty-eight years trying to convince myself that I wasn't sleeping with him by choice, and I was doing a damn good job of it, until the savior showed up. By the time I realized that I was enjoying myself, you started pulling away. I can understand how it seems like cheating, and I can see that I've hurt you, but can't you even try to understand my side?** When Mike just stood there, clenching his jaw in anger, Paige went on. **I don't think I can marry you, Mike, even if you still wanted me to. Because I won't have you ruin our wedding night by pulling away like you did today.**

"I can't help it, Paige. I was kissing you, and then I realized that you've kissed _him_, and I just… I can't. And I can't even begin to imagine having sex with you. I mean, if I'm… you know, doing something a certain way, and you tell me a different way, or something else you want me to do for you, I'll know who you were with when you realized you like that particular move, or position, or whatever. I can't stand the thought that I'm getting _his_ sloppy seconds."

Paige walked over and slapped Mike. **I am **_**no one's**_** sloppy seconds. That is disgusting, and besides, if you think that of me, then what am I getting with you? How many women have **_**you**_** slept with, Mike? I know you're not a virgin, but you never actually told me how many there were. So by kissing you, or sleeping with you, or whatever, I'm getting the "sloppy seconds" of **_**how**_** many other women?**

Mike wouldn't meet her eyes.

**How many, Mike? I've been with one man. Rumpelstiltskin. Mr. Gold. The Dark One. However you want to think of him. And I'm not asking for names – I doubt I'd know the women you've screwed. I just want to know how many were before me.**

Shifting uncomfortably, Mike muttered, "Six. I've been with six other women. But they were all before I ever even met you."

**So, is that supposed to make it okay? If you want me to "do something" a certain way, it's not supposed to matter what woman did it first, because you knew her before you met me? I'm supposed to just be okay with the fact that you've screwed other women? Even back in our world, when you told me I wouldn't be your first, I was jealous. But I guess even I'm more insecure after the Curse, because back then, I didn't let it bother me. Now, though – now it bugs the **_**hell**_** out of me. **She could definitely understand his jealousy. But she was willing to work past that. Why couldn't he do the same? **Besides, Mike, if we were together, I would hope that you'd think of it as "making love" instead of just "having sex." Because for me, that's what it would be. Having sex is just… well, sex. Like I had with Gold. Like you had with those other women. But making love is something special, it's more than just sex – it's a whole new level of intimacy. Just the thought of making love with you makes me kind of nervous. Like, butterflies-in-the-stomach nervous, but in the best possible way. Except that now… now part of me is afraid that you'll push me away, and that would hurt far more than anything Gold could **_**ever**_** do to me. Physically or emotionally. I would rather face down that angry mob again, alone, than have you push me away on our wedding night.**

Mike swallowed hard, but didn't make any response.

**That's why, if you're really serious about giving this another chance, if you really want us to have any kind of future together, we're going to have to do more than just kiss and make out a little. That's all we've done so far, and I'm not saying we have to go all the way, but we definitely have to go further than we have so far. But of course, that's only if you still want to try for happily ever after with me.**

Mike turned away. "I'm going home," he said, his voice rough. "Text me if you need me, or knock on the wall." Without another word, he left Paige's bedroom.

She watched him go, and listened to him moving through her living room. He didn't slam the door behind him, but he shut it more firmly than he needed to. Why had she done that? She knew it was her own fault – she had brought up his jealousy. Maybe, if she had handled the situation more delicately… but then again, some of the things that were said, on both sides, were things that would have needed to be said eventually. Sighing, Paige picked up her mug of tea, but it was too cold to drink now. And for some reason, that was final straw. Paige started to cry, tears pouring down her face, but with very little sound.

* * *

><p>Paige looked around. She could sense that this was one of Gold's dreams, but she didn't recognize this place. It looked like a cave, or a mine, but one end of the tunnel she was in was blocked off by strange-looking bars. Instead of being smooth metal, connected from top to bottom, they looked strange. If they were made of metal, it looked kind of rusty, or maybe just dirty. And most of the bars came to points anywhere between head and knee level, so they almost gave the impression of being slender, jagged fangs.<p>

It was very cool down here, almost cold. She approached the bars and peered through, but even the darkest recess of the caged-off space was empty. The back and sides of the cell were rough stone with lots of little nooks, and most of them were so shadowed that Paige couldn't tell how deep they went.

Leaning closer, she grasped the bars. She still wasn't sure what they were made of, even while touching them, but they were cold. As she stared at the back wall, she started to see patterns of nooks, where a person could climb up the wall if he wanted to. In fact, the stone right around many of those particular nooks looked suspiciously smooth, as though they had been used for just that. Her eyes swept up to the ceiling of the cage. Some of the crags up there looked too smooth, as well. Blinking in surprise, she supposed that someone with sufficient strength and determination probably could manage to cling to the craggy rock overhead if he really wanted to. Or if he were bored enough. Being trapped in this dismal place would surely drive anyone to boredom.

There was a bleak feel to this place, and Paige's chest tightened. Even though she was outside the bars, she could easily imagine the trapped desperation that any unfortunate resident of this cell must feel. She wondered who had been kept here.

Hearing a noise behind her, she twisted her body to look, but there was no one there. Her hands, still wrapped around the bars, tightened reflexively. She gasped and jumped when a breath of warm air touched her knuckles. Turning back, she saw Rumpelstiltskin smirking impishly at her. Despite the dangerous look in his eyes, she felt relieved. Although now that she thought about it, the only person she'd ever seen in these dreams was Mr. Gold or Rumpelstiltskin, whichever guise he was wearing at the time. Unless, of course, that strange dream about the risqué masquerade counted, though she wasn't sure that he had truly been in her dream back then. Although as she thought about it, she began to really wonder. That dream _had_ felt strangely different than her normal dreams, but at the time she had dismissed the feeling because she was uncomfortable with the subject matter, and her own reaction to it.

When Rumpelstiltskin ran the back of one finger across her knuckles, it jarred her back to the present. She expected him to ask what she had been thinking, but he whispered, "On your knees, dove." There was a darkness in his voice that mesmerized her.

As she complied, she asked, "Where are we?"

In a sing-song voice, he said, "This is the cell, your father's spell, summoned me from." When he spoke again, it was in a normal tone of voice. "You know, when I came to… _taste_ your innocence." He smirked at Paige's blush. It embarrassed her a little to be reminded that he had used his mouth on her while she was paying her price, especially now that she realized that she had actually enjoyed it.

Now that she was kneeling, something felt different. She wasn't sure what her clothes had been like before, but now she was wearing a teal blue corset with two panels of embroidered silk on the front, though not in the center. They featured hibiscus flowers, and the corset wasn't quite the style that she was accustomed to. It brought her waist in more than normal, so that her hips flared out in a wasp-waist style. Even though she was still very obviously overweight, she had never seen her waist look quite so small. Teal garter straps extended from the bottom edge of the corset to support sheer white stockings, framing the place where her legs met. The strappy heeled sandals she wore matched the color of the corset. She was surprised to note that her breasts were not exposed. The corset lifted them up, and quite a lot showed, but her nipples were covered. Usually, he seemed to favor under-bust corsets. Of course, the mask "tattoo" he had etched on her upper left breast was very visible.

She felt Rumpelstiltskin's hand on the side of her head, and his pants were around his thighs. Despite the chill in the air, he was very obviously ready for her. She offered no resistance as he pulled her face against the bars and positioned his hips right in front of her. Since she didn't want to give him any reason to claim she thought of him as a monster, she willing opened her mouth.

He began thrusting with no regard for her comfort, but Paige easily kept up with him. With the bars in the way, he couldn't go as deep as he would have otherwise, so this wasn't as bad as she had thought it might be.

"Oh! Oh, _hell_ no!"

Paige managed to turn her head enough to see who had spoken. It was Emma, with a look of utter disgust on her face.

"I'm not seeing this," Emma muttered to herself, closing her eyes. "This is _so_ not happening."

Paige blushed, deeply embarrassed. But then she realized that this was a dream. She could sense Rumpelstiltskin's emotions, confused as they were, but she couldn't sense anything from Emma. The blonde sheriff was only a figment of the dream, an element that Rumpelstiltskin had brought in to make things harder for Paige. So to prove that it wouldn't work, Paige reached her hand through the bars. She massaged his testicles, moaning as if it turned her on. Which she had to admit, at least to herself, that it kind of did, especially when _he_ moaned with pleasure.

In fact, that brought him to orgasm. He let go of Paige's head, and she pulled a handkerchief out of the front of her corset to wipe her face off. Then she paused. That hadn't been there a moment ago. Had she made it appear, or did he?

But before she could work that out, he grasped her hair and pulled her upright. When he let go, she looked around, but the dream-version of Emma was gone.

Rumpelstiltskin reached around behind Paige, putting his hands on the backs of her thighs and lifting. She gasped a little in surprise and clung to the bars to keep her balance. He adjusted her position, pulling her legs through the gaps between the bars. It was almost too tight of a fit.

The next thing Paige knew, he was inside her, and part of her was almost amused. She was pretty sure that a position like this wouldn't be nearly so easy to achieve in real life. But she wrapped her legs around his hips and shifted her grip on the bars. Just as she started to really get into it, she heard another voice off to the side.

"Gross!"

This time, it was Ruby. Paige felt the rush of embarrassment again, but as before, she couldn't sense anything from the person watching. Although she had a sinking feeling that he would try this again, she refused to let it get to her. Besides, she _was_ enjoying this position, even though it seemed somewhat impractical. Although, she reminded herself, the Dark One was known for exceptional strength. If this position could be pulled off in real life, he would be the one to do it.

She cried out, "Oh yes, please, Rumpelstiltskin, yes!" She tried to ignore the protests coming from the dream-Ruby. But as things got more intense, she was able to tune out her friend's voice.

Rumpelstiltskin came again, but Paige wasn't there yet. She was surprised when he pulled out and put her back on her feet. When she looked at him, she knew he was enjoying her confusion and her desire, but she wanted to know why he had stopped. She barely even noticed that the fake Ruby was now gone, too.

Before she could ask, he said, "Turn around," in a rough voice. He pulled on her arm at the same time, starting the motion. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back against the bars. "Bend over, dove," he ordered.

It wasn't easy in a corset, but she found a position that worked. It felt very humiliating, though. Her head was down, with her hands on the tunnel floor, and though her legs were bent slightly to make the position a little easier, she still felt like she was sticking her bottom up in the air in a very lewd fashion. Gravity pulled her breasts partway out of the corset, which was even more humiliating. She felt Rumpelstiltskin's hands shift a little bit forward, and then he was inside her again. He started with a fast, unrelenting pace, and Paige could feel her impending orgasm. But to her surprise, it never came.

She whimpered, unable to stop herself. It sounded pathetic and whining, and she hated it.

"No, dove," Rumpelstiltskin said. From his tone of voice, Paige could easily picture the self-satisfied, superior look on his face. "You don't get to come unless you do _everything_ I tell you."

She opened her mouth to ask what he wanted, but she felt one of his hands slide along the back of her corset. He twined his fingers into the laces and pulled her into a more upright position, without ever losing his rhythm. Paige gasped at the sudden change in angle, though she knew that the main reason it felt so good was that her body was poised on the edge of orgasm. She could only assume that he was rigidly controlling the dream to keep her from going over that edge.

Though she knew she could fight to impose her own will over the dream, she was certain he would see that as an attack on him, an admission, of sorts, that he was a monster. So instead she asked, "What do you want me to do?" She noticed that her breasts hadn't fallen back into the corset as they had been before she'd bent over; her nipples were just barely showing along the top edge of the corset now.

She was still leaning forward some, and felt rather unbalanced, so she reached back to grasp the bars. Rumpelstiltskin caught her right hand with his, but let her left hand find a bar to clutch. He raised her hand to his mouth and licked her fingers, then guided her hand across her own body until she could touch the sweet spot.

Just then, Mike appeared. "What the hell?" he said angrily. Then he just folded his arms and watched, his face dark with anger and disgust.

Rumpelstiltskin's lips brushed against Paige's ear as he whispered, "Touch yourself, dove."

For just a breath, she hesitated, not sure she could do this in front of Mike. Because she was facing away from Rumpelstiltskin, she never noticed the surprised look on his face. So, telling herself that Mike was only a figment of the dream, as well, she closed her eyes and did as she was asked. It added a whole new dimension to the overwhelming sensations her body was feeling right now, and she couldn't suppress a gasp of pleasure.

"Look him in the eyes while you do it," Rumpelstiltskin directed.

Though a part of her was crying inside, Paige reluctantly opened her eyes. When Rumpelstiltskin told her to move her hand faster, she did so, but she could feel her blush deepen. The sense of pure loathing that she got from Mike was almost overwhelming, and she wanted to break down in tears.

With a significant tone in his voice, Rumpelstiltskin murmured, "Say my name, dove. Nice and loud, like you've done before."

As she opened her mouth, he gave a slightly deeper thrust, making her cry out wordlessly, instead. Then she moaned, "Oh, Rumpelstiltskin!" But either it wasn't loud enough for him, or he wanted to hear her say it again – whatever the reason, he changed the angle of his hips, which pushed her even closer to orgasm without bringing her over the edge, impossible as that seemed.

"God, Rumple, yes!" She was embarrassed that she had called him Rumple instead of his full name – she'd done it before and he hadn't seemed to mind, so she wasn't worried about his reaction. But it somehow seemed even more intimate. What would Mike think if he could hear it?

Her eyes had closed, and when she opened them again, Mike had an almost sarcastic look on his face. He was so angry with her, and so disgusted by what she was doing – and then it hit her. She could sense his emotions. Either Rumpelstiltskin was putting out an extra effort or… or that really _was_ Mike, drawn into the dream somehow! But just as she realized that the seeming emanation of Mike was very different from the earlier two, he disappeared.

Continuing with the angle he had switched to, Rumpelstiltskin finally let Paige's overwhelmed body find release. She cried out louder than she ever had before, and when he let go, she sank into a heap on the floor, panting and even still moaning slightly. Her body twitched and writhed with the aftershocks of the long-awaited orgasm. Rumpelstiltskin just watched, smirking.

When Paige recovered, she sat up. She looked at him, her face sorrowful. "I'm so sorry, Rumple," she said, a tear running down her cheek. He looked confused, so she added, "I'm not the one you need. I can't do what Belle did, and I'm so, _so_ sorry! I wish I could, I wish I was good enough. Please, you _have _to find a way to get the real Belle back! For your own sake, no one else's. You deserve Belle, and you _need_ her. Please, get her back!"

He eyed her warily, as if not sure how to deal with her sudden compassion. He had sensed the moment when Paige realized it really _was_ young Michael in the dream. He wasn't sure how that had happened, but even though he had figured it out almost right away, he hadn't been kind enough to stop then. After he forced her to do things she well knew her young man wouldn't want to see, and even after he had controlled her body so that she couldn't orgasm until he was ready for her to, how could she be apologizing? How could she still feel so strongly about his supposed goodness that she was willing to forgive him for the terrible things he had done?

Without speaking, he sent Paige out of the dream. For a long moment, he stood there, still staring at the spot where her tearful face had been. Then he stepped out of the dream himself, and back into his slumbering body at home.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "Second Star to the Right." Once again, as far as I can tell, it takes place on the day following the previous episode.

With only one chapter left of Season 2, I'm interested to know what you would like to see in Season 3. Do you have a favorite character that you would like to see more often? Or perhaps see more of their backstory? For instance:

It was mentioned once that Muffet defeated the Red Death.

And it may not have been very clear to the reader, but after Ayala came to live at the Wolfsbane castle, there is a 3-year gap before she actually marries Tristan.

We know that there is a banshee associated with King Rolph's line, so how might that have affected Norah while she lived in poverty?

How did Felix's Uncle Damian find out that his family was directly descended from Rolph?

Or any other character whose backstory you are interested in!

Also, is there anything you'd like to see (or see more of) in Storybrooke?

Feel free to go back into older things, too - like the time in Chapter 11 when Mike went to Gold to demand that he stop "forcing" Paige, and Gold basically promised to stop sleeping with her if Mike started dating her. Paige doesn't know the details of their conversation, just that Mike went to Gold about making the sex stop. So is anyone interested in her reaction to finding out that Mike could have done something to stop what he was so very much against? Are there other things that have happened in the past (or more recently) that you'd like to see a reaction/consequence for?

And with the examples I have mentioned, please feel free to also tell me if you _don't_ want to see that. A few of the listed items are things that I definitely want to explore eventually, but some of them I'm still considering whether or not I want to go there. So please, leave your opinions, or even just the name of your favorite character!


	44. S2 Ch23: Waiting

Here it is, the final chapter of Season 2!

By the way, I was very sad at the complete lack of response to my question at the end of the previous chapter. Is there nothing that anyone would like to see more of, or less of, or just something in general that you would like me to consider? It doesn't have to relate to any of the things I mentioned when I asked - those were examples to get people thinking. Keep in mind that I'm doing my best to keep this story canon, so there are some things that just won't work, like a suggestion I got a little while ago about maybe having Paige fall through the portal with Neal - aside from the fact that I couldn't see any way to have that happen without a complete break from canon, I already have some adventures planned for Paige while most of ABC's main characters are in Neverland. But I will _always_ be glad to consider any feedback my readers might have. Even if the idea would break from canon, please suggest it anyway, because it might give me other ideas that I can use in future chapters!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

><p>~~Previously on "To Carry On"~~<p>

~In the Enchanted Forest, Rumpelstiltskin arranges for Garnet, the dowager queen of the Wolfsbane kingdom, to collect a lock of her younger son's hair. Andrew had pushed his mother aside to protect her from an assassin's arrow. In truth, the arrow would never have hit Garnet – Rumpelstiltskin fired it from the magic bow he had taken from Robin Hood. But Andrew does not know that, and so his actions are made because of his own courage.

In the Blueberry kingdom, the Dark One made a deal many years ago that saved the life of a young princess named Hazel, who grows up to become Owen's mother, and therefore Eliza's grandmother. In exchange, Hazel's mother had to give Rumpelstiltskin a small sample of the life-saving potion, which was concocted by a faun.

In the war-torn kingdom between the two, Rumpelstiltskin advises two women not to switch their babies. Both women had given birth at nearly the same time, but one woman, who had married a man who would turn out to be the rightful heir to the throne, had a daughter. The proof of her husband Felix's lineage had just come to light, and she was distressed to think that she had not borne her husband's heir, rightly guessing that the assurance of a royal line would help Felix to gain support. But against Rumpelstiltskin's advice, the women _do_ switch their babies, so that Felix will believe he has a son. Felix's wife promises to raise the poor farmwife to nobility so that their two children can wed, in order to preserve the royal line. But eventually, many years later, the switch is discovered and Felix loses most of his support.

But before that happens, the Dark One collects a magical bag from Felix, as payment for bringing Felix's ancestry to light. However, the bag belongs to the heir of the family, so he must also make a deal with Norah, who at this point in time still believes she is the daughter of a poor farmer. But Rumpelstiltskin does not reveal his true nature to her just now, and Norah believes he is just a lonely, desperate soul who was kind enough to help her out. But instead of using his own magic to create the documents she wanted, he tells her that what she needs is in the bag. The bag's own magic creates the documents, and when Rumpelstiltskin turns to leave, Norah calls out to him that the bag was his, thinking he had accidentally left it. However, this step is necessary for the ownership of the bag to pass to him.

~In Storybrooke, Paige takes a stuffed toy to Mr. Gold. It was meant to be a dove, but since she herself made it when she was only seven years old, it is a very crude attempt. However, it was given to all of Eliza's brothers when they were infants, so Paige hopes that Gold can use it to make a finding spell of some sort. But Lacey is derisive, both of Paige and of the toy, so she throws the toy in the trash and makes fun of Paige. Paige leaves the pawn shop, and when Lacey goes into the back room to get another drink, Gold retrieves the toy and tucks it into his safe.

Paige is pleased to have Aurelia at home with her, though she is also worried about the potential price of the magic that saved her daughter. Mike has returned, and for the first day everything went well, but on the second day they had another fight. Mike discovers the key that Gold gave her, which enables her to control her own dreams, and touches it without knowing what it is.

Though the fight upsets Paige, she also knows that some of the things that were said are things that needed to come out eventually, like Mike's worry that Paige might use the key to keep having sex with Gold even if she and Mike are together, and the fact that it's unfair of Mike to be so upset about Paige's past with Gold, when he slept with six women before he even met his one true love.

That night, Gold returns to Paige's dreams to carry out his threat from the night before. They have sex through the bars of the cage where he was imprisoned in the Enchanted Forest, but Gold, appearing as Rumpelstiltskin, uses his control over the dream to make people appear – people that Paige cares about. First Emma is there, then Ruby, and finally Mike. Emma and Ruby are both projections, just part of the dream. Mike, however, is really there, somehow. Rumpelstiltskin realizes almost right away, but Paige doesn't catch on until just before he disappears.

When Paige tearfully apologizes to Rumpelstiltskin for not being able to bring him out of his darkness, like Belle would be able to do, he is confused. He doesn't understand why he can't prove to her that his is, in fact, a monster, especially after the things he has just done to her.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin took the bag off of a shelf. It was a carpet bag. The dark, yellowish-brown material was embroidered in a cross-hatch pattern. Despite the fact that this bag was nearly two hundred years older than Rumpelstiltskin himself, it was in good condition. The bag hadn't been particularly well-kept during its long existence – it was the inherent magic that kept the fabric from fraying and falling apart. And Rumpelstiltskin had finally found a use for that magic.<p>

He had done a spell that showed him the defining characteristics of the three tiny kingdoms on the far side of the Wolfswood. The Blueberry kingdom was renowned for its intelligence, and Wolfsbane for its courage. But the kingdom between, which hadn't been a true kingdom for several generations, had become known for betrayal. In order to ensure that those three kingdoms were included in the Dark Curse, he would need a token to represent each kingdom.

Several years ago, he had acquired a sample of a potion that had saved the life of the only heir to the throne. The potion was so complex that it was unlikely any human could have devised it, but with some timely advice from the Dark One, the girl's parents found a faun whose healing skills were unsurpassed in the Blueberry kingdom. So that bit of potion would do nicely in Rumpelstiltskin's spell.

To represent the courage of the Wolfsbane kingdom, Rumpelstiltskin intended to collect a sample of hair shed in the act of saving a life – or so the little princeling had thought. In truth, there had been no danger – Rumpelstiltskin had used a magic bow that could not miss its target, and aimed for the tip of the prince's left ear. However, the prince took it as a threat and pushed his mother aside so she would not be harmed, thus making the boy's act courageous.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled softly. It had a sneering quality to it, and he looked rather pleased with himself. He knew that the prince's mother, Garnet, was looking for him. She now possessed that token of courage, and because of the seeds he had sown, she would trade it for the Dark One's aid. But he thought it would be amusing to let her search for a few days – and besides, it would make her believe that he had little interest in making a deal with her, which would sharpen her resolve to trade that precious memento of her favorite son.

But now, he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He focused his thoughts on what he needed – a symbol of the central kingdom's betrayal. When he opened the bag and reached in, he wondered why there were only a few papers in there. But as he perused them, he chortled in delight. It was perfect!

The two pieces of paper were birth certificates, though the names had not been filled out. These were the original birth certificates of Robert and Norah, before the two mothers switched their babies while the doctor washed up and prepared the paperwork. One was the heir to a throne, while the other was the child of a poor farmer. Rumpelstiltskin had not lingered to watch, but he could imagine the confusion on the doctor's face when the two women insisted that he must have gotten confused about the genders of the two babes. Yes, this was just what he needed for his spell.

After this, he only needed to collect Prince Andrew's lock of hair, and then make the potion. Then, once he was in that cell that Snow White and her dwarf-friends would devise, he just had to make sure Regina added his potion to her spell. That wasn't quite as simple as it sounded, but Rumpelstiltskin knew that he could distract her enough that she would do what was needed. In fact, she might be so focused on her task that she wouldn't even realize what he had done.

* * *

><p>Emma knew she had to tell Henry about his father. Right now, Henry was at the playground, with Granny watching over him. She couldn't find her keys, and as she rummaged around on the end table where she thought she'd put them, she pushed things out of her way roughly. She knew that she was focusing on her frustration to try to keep from feeling the pain of losing Neal again, and that just made her even angrier. She opened the little drawer with a jerk, pawing through the contents in case her keys had fallen into the drawer, or been placed there by someone else.<p>

A partially-folded piece of paper fell to the floor. Frowning, Emma picked it up. She caught a glimpse of a drawing on it, so she unfolded it to look at it better. "What's this?" she asked.

David walked over. "Oh, Matilda, the exterminator, she brought that by. She was looking for her axe while you and Mary Margaret were… gone. I don't know if she ever found it or not, though."

Emma snorted. "I doubt it. That thing's in one of the tunnels under the library – I saw it on my way down to slay a dragon." Her voice was just a touch sarcastic on the last three words.

David's jaw dropped. "Wait, it's down _there_?"

Dropping the paper onto the table, Emma replied, "Yeah. But what I'm looking for are my keys."

"Oh, uh, I think they're on the counter," David said, pulling out his cell phone. As Emma walked away, he dialed the numbers on the paper.

"Hey, Mat, it's David," he said when he got an answer. "Listen, Emma just saw that drawing you gave me, of your axe. She recognized it." He paused, smiling as he listened to her excitement. "Yeah, she says it's down in the tunnels underneath the library. Now, with Belle, well, gone, I guess you could say, I'm not sure who's in charge of the library, so I'll look into it, and as soon as I can get us in there, we'll go down and get your axe." As she responded again, his grin widened. He genuinely liked helping people. It made him feel like he was doing something worthwhile. When Matilda paused for breath, he said, "Listen, I've got to go now, there's a… a family thing I have to take care of, but I'll call you as soon as I know anything, okay?" After a moment, he said, "Thank you," because Matilda had said that she hoped everything was alright. He looked over and saw that Emma and Mary Margaret were ready to go, so he said, "I'll talk to you later. Bye." After Matilda said goodbye in return, he ended the call.

Turning to his family, he simply said, "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Paige woke up feeling dirty and used. A hot shower only made her feel a little better, but holding her baby girl, feeding her, helped much more. Once again, Paige felt as if the tiny child in her arms was comforting her. After Aurelia was done feeding, Paige headed downstairs to make her own breakfast.<p>

She was just mixing up the pancake batter when a knock sounded on her kitchen door. Only one person would come to the back door, and Paige swallowed. After their fight yesterday, and especially the dream last night, she wasn't sure she wanted to face Mike just yet. But she knew she couldn't refuse to let him in, so she opened the door. She did her best to smile as naturally as possible.

But Mike seemed withdrawn, so he probably wouldn't have noticed anyway. "Hey, um, I thought maybe we could have some breakfast together, if you're making enough for two." It almost seemed as if he, too, was trying to pretend they hadn't fought yesterday.

Smiling gently, Paige signed, **You know I never bother with trying to scale down my recipes, Mike. I'm making pancakes, and trust me, there will be plenty.**

He smiled back, but his face was guarded. "Good," he said. Before Paige could even ask, he started getting out plates and silverware to set the table.

* * *

><p>"Paige, have I ever told you just how amazing your pancakes are?" Mike pushed his plate away, looking quite contented. All throughout breakfast, they had avoided any serious subjects, but Paige knew that Mike had some very unpleasant things on his mind. She hoped there wouldn't be another argument.<p>

Mike's face got serious again, making Paige nervous. "So, um, I – I don't quite know how to say this Paige, but I had a… crazy dream. Last night." He was looking down when he started to speak, but now he glanced up, trying to gauge Paige's expression. "It was about you. With… Rumpelstiltskin."

She looked away, not sure how to respond.

"Was it real, Paige? Was that one of the dreams that he controls?" His voice was almost emotionless, but there was a touch of anger he couldn't quite suppress.

After a moment, Paige nodded.

"I thought you told me those dreams had stopped," Mike said, unable to keep the edge from his voice.

**They had,** she replied, with a sinking feeling in her stomach. **Then after – after he lost Belle… He was trying so hard to be a better man, and then Belle, his inspiration, was ripped away from him. And as if that weren't enough, he was given Lacey in her place. I don't know if Regina purposefully did something to Belle, or if the Curse's false memories finally just caught up with her because she lost her true memories, but Lacey is… Lacey **_**likes**_** the darkness in him. Instead of an inspiration to goodness, he has a bad influence, now. When that happened, he started believing he was a monster again, and he's been trying very hard to make **_**me**_** see him that way. But I'm afraid that if he ever thinks I truly believe that, it could bury the goodness so deep he might never be able to find it again. And I can't stand the thought of watching him do that to himself.**

Mike looked like he wanted to speak, but he held his tongue.

**I know I'm not the one he **_**needs**_**, **she signed. **But I'm hoping that if I can stay strong, that will be enough. I just need to keep that spark of goodness alive inside him, until someone finds a way to bring Belle's memories back.** Paige took a deep, shuddering breath, trying not to cry. It was hard enough to admit this to anyone, but to Mike… she didn't even dare meet his eyes, fearing what she would see there. **Last night, he… he kept denying me pleasure, and made me do things in front of people I care about. Emma, Ruby… you. The other two, they weren't really there, but somehow… somehow you were. And when you appeared, he kept whispering in my ear, telling me what to do. Telling me that he wouldn't let me orgasm if I didn't do exactly what he said, and I was so afraid that it really **_**was**_** you, but… I just want you to know that I didn't do it for the physical pleasure. I knew that if I hesitated, if I paused just a moment too long, he would say that I secretly believed he was a monster. And I'm so sorry, Mike. I'm sorry I did all that right in front of you.**

Mike cleared his throat. "So, uh… _did_ he?" At Paige's confused look, he blushed and elaborated awkwardly. "Did he…let you… orgasm?" It hadn't happened while Mike was still stuck in the dream.

Paige blinked at him for a moment before nodding. **Yes, after you… were gone.** Honestly, she was surprised that Mr. Gold hadn't forced Mike to watch that. It would certainly have made Mike extremely uncomfortable, and what better way to make Paige think he was a monster than to give Mike another reason to start a fight? But now that she had realized it, the fact that he didn't go that extra step gave Paige hope. She knew she wasn't what Gold needed, but maybe she _was_ helping, maybe her refusal to see him as evil was holding the darkness at bay, at least a little bit.

"Well, at least he kept his word," Mike muttered grudgingly.

Paige just stared incredulously.

"Look," Mike said, "I'm trying, Paige. After what you said about… me freaking out, I'm really trying." He reached out and gently wiped a tear from Paige's face. "Are you crying because you're afraid you can't save him, or because you're afraid I'll start another fight?"

**Both, actually,** Paige signed. **I love you, and I love him, too. Just in different ways. And the thought of losing either of you is terrible, but if I lose both of you, I don't know what I'd do. **Then she glanced over at the bassinet, where Aurelia was napping. **If I have to, I'll raise her on my own, but I don't want that. I want you to help, and I want Mr. Gold to be a part of her life, too. But if I lost both of you, if **_**we **_**lost both of you, I just don't know how I could face the future.**

"I hated what I saw last night, but what you said about helping him – well, signed, you know what I mean. I hate it, but I understand." He swallowed hard. "And I know that, if you _did_ lose both of us, you would find a way to carry on. You're strong, Paige, I've known that since I met you. If anyone can soldier on, it's you. I… _really_ hope I never have to see anything like that again, but… if it means that much to you, then do what you have to, to help him."

Paige just stared at him incredulously, tears still on her face.

Mike gave a wry chuckle. "You know, before I came here this morning, I told myself that if that dream really _was_ real, it was over. I was out of here. But… somehow I just can't give up on us. I thought about a lot of things while I was gone. Like spending my life without you. And Paige, that thought just sucked. And then when I came back, and you said you weren't sure you could marry me if I kept freaking out, I realized I had to grow up. I was being unfair to you, just like you said."

His self-deprecating smile became embarrassed. "And, well, after I left yesterday – before the dream – I was listening to music, and there was this song, a love song. And one line went something like, "you and me, we've both got sins, and I don't care where you've been." It goes on to say, "come to me with secrets bare, I'll love you more, so don't be scared." I know it's really cheesy, and cliché, and all, but… it really made me think about the kind of man I want to be for you. And… I can't promise I won't get upset about Gold, but I'm going to try. _Really _try. I know it's going to be hard, but when I think of everything I've put you through – all the things I said, the way I've hurt you over and over… but somehow, for some reason, you still want to be with me. That means a lot, Paige. It really does." He cleared his throat awkwardly. He still wanted to wait until they were married to have sex, but maybe Paige was right, and they should try _something_, to see if he could get over his hang-up. He wanted to tell her that now, but after the dream last night, he couldn't bring himself to mention it. But if things went well, they could discuss that later.

An incredulous smile came over her face. **Oh, Mike. I love you so much!**

"And I love you. Princess," he replied.

Paige's smile widened when he called her that. She knew this wasn't a guarantee, but at least he was finally willing to really try.

* * *

><p>The Dark One watched the dowager queen of the Wolfsbane kingdom. She was disgraced, exiled for plotting against her elder son, but too late, she had realized the error of her ways. Now, though… now she was trying to change her younger son's fate.<p>

Though she no longer wanted to put him on the throne, she didn't want him to leave the kingdom to marry. But Rumpelstiltskin had known it would come to this. Why else had he deliberately given this woman the idea that her son's fate _could_ be changed? When telling the boy's future, he had made a seemingly off-handed comment that implied that the little prince would need to prevent someone's murder for Rumpelstiltskin's prediction to come true. Then the very next morning, the Dark One had fired an arrow into the outpost, so that the little princeling could play the hero and create the token Rumpelstiltskin needed.

As the former queen approached her little cottage, Rumpelstiltskin leaned casually against the corner of the humble building. "I believe you were looking for me, dearie?" he asked, smirking. She had been searching for him for almost a week now, and though he wanted that lock of hair, it amused him to let her think he might ignore her.

"This is your fault," Garnet said, her voice low and threatening. Her attempt to hide her frustration was pathetic, but she also couldn't hide her fear at confronting him like this.

A dangerous gleam in his eye, Rumpelstiltskin asked, "Whatever do you mean, dearie?"

As she explained about her son being betrothed to the Blueberry princess, and how she believed that Eliza would be wildly unfaithful to the boy, Rumpelstiltskin grinned. He replied that he'd never heard of red hair being the mark of a woman's whoredom, as this disgraced queen claimed. He chuckled, thinking of Eliza's masquerade and the way she had danced with him. He knew she would never be the loose woman Garnet claimed, but then again, Garnet's claim was not based on logic but on a mother's fear of losing her son.

Of course, Garnet wouldn't believe him if he told her so, because she didn't _want_ to believe that Eliza might be a good woman, and Andrew's true love besides.

"But that's not what I came here for, is it, dearie?" he asked, his voice just a touch too smooth.

"I want her dead," Garnet spat.

Steepling his fingers, Rumpelstiltskin replied, "I thought as much. But magic cannae kill anyone." His tone of voice suggested that everyone should know that.

With a hint of impatience, as if she knew he was deliberately misunderstanding her, the former queen replied, "But you have information as well as magic, have you not? You could find someone who can kill her for me, someone very good at what he does. I have no doubt that there are many that either owe you a favor, or would do this in exchange for your help. I cannot pay an assassin."

"Ah, but can you pay _me?_" Rumpelstiltskin kept his gloating inside.

"I do not know," the desperate woman replied, her voice nearly breaking. "What do you want?"

"As always, something… _precious_," he said, his smirk at its most devious.

The banished queen closed her eyes, but didn't shed a tear as she offered the locket. Rumpelstiltskin pretended disinterest at first, the better to firm her resolve to part with this precious trinket.

When their transaction was finally completed, Rumpelstiltskin delightedly exclaimed, "Well, 'tis done then!" He snatched the locket out of her hand.

Regina had no reason to care what became of the kingdoms on this side of the Wolfswood, but Rumpelstiltskin had made plans that required them to be Cursed as well. It all depended on Regina's whim at the moment she cast the Dark Curse, but Rumpelstiltskin had no intention of relying on her whims. This locket held the final ingredient he needed to bring his plans to fruition.

Before he left, Rumpelstiltskin said, "Expect a visitor in few days, dearie. He's rather good at what he does, and he would only turn aside for _love,_ which he lost long ago." Of course, Eliza would live – Rumpelstiltskin had his plans well in hand to make sure that the witch-hunter would spare Eliza's life in exchange for information on the whereabouts of Miranda, the woman that he believed he loved.

* * *

><p>Paige cuddled Aurelia in her arms as they left the hospital. Mike was carrying the empty car seat. Although Dr. Whale had said it was normal, it still worried Paige that her daughter had lost weight. No amount of reassurance could completely quell her fears that something was about to go terribly wrong, but Whale had insisted that there was no reason to re-admit Aurelia to the hospital. Still, though, Paige just felt the need to hold her baby right now.<p>

When they got to the car, Mike strapped the carrier into the base and turned to Paige. "Hey, you heard Doctor Whale. He said that babies _usually_ lose a little weight at first once they're home, but she'll gain it back in no time." Whale had specifically mentioned that even full-term babies generally lost weight at first, but Mike didn't want to add to Paige's worry by reminding her that Aurelia was a preemie.

"Anyway, if we're going to get home any time soon, we kind of need to put her in her car seat," he added.

With a reluctant frown, Paige shifted the baby. She ignored Mike's outstretched hands; she wanted to hold Aurelia for as long as she could. She was getting much better with hooking all the little straps, but she lingered over them anyway.

As she straightened and turned away from the open car door, a sudden tremor shook the ground. Paige stumbled against the side of the car, looking around in wild terror. Mike looked around at first, too, until he saw Paige's reaction. He immediately put his arms around her, saying, "It's alright, Paige. It's okay. I'm right here." He kept murmuring things like that as she stood in his arms. She was very tense, and her chest heaved as she began to hyperventilate.

Mike stroked Paige's hair, and slowly she began to relax. Her breathing slowed, but not quite to normal, and she put her arms around him as the tension in her muscles eased. She buried her face against his shoulder. A few tears squeezed out of her eyes, but she suddenly pulled back, pushing at Mike a little to get enough room to use her hands.

**What happened? Do you think it's the mines, like before?** She wiped at the tears as Mike shrugged, then her eyes widened. She whirled and leaned back into the car to check on Aurelia. But the infant seemed completely unfazed by the tremor, so after placing a gentle kiss on her baby's forehead, she turned back to Mike to sign, **I'm okay, now. I think. But maybe we should get home.**

"I don't know what it was, but you're right, let's head home."

* * *

><p>Paige was curled up on the end of her couch, with Aurelia's bassinet next to her. There had been two more tremors so far, and every time Paige tried to be stronger, but she was still terrified. She tried to consciously relax her muscles.<p>

Mike came in from the kitchen with two mugs of hot tea and a jar of Miles' blueberry honey. Paige poured a generous dollop of honey in both mugs. They both stirred to mix in the honey, and Paige sipped almost without thinking about it. Then she smiled over at Mike. He had chosen the blueberry tea, even though he knew that Mr. Gold had given it to her. She watched him as he took a sip.

His eyebrows lifted, and he said, "You know, this stuff is actually pretty good. In spite of… I mean, I like it," he amended. He hadn't meant to insult Gold, even by implication. "Sorry."

Paige touched his hand, then pulled back to sign, **It's okay. It's going to take time.** She was actually a little surprised that he had caught himself. But she was also pleased, in part because she could tell that his apology was genuine. She knew that he meant what he had been about to say, but he _hadn't_ meant to say that part out loud. She didn't expect him to ever come to a point where he could like or respect Mr. Gold, but she hoped that Mike could come to respect her friendship with the other man.

Mike smiled gratefully and took another sip of tea. Then a very serious look came over his face. "Paige," he said, "while I was making this, I called Dr. Horne. He says that the Curse is being… undone. Not that we're going back, but if no one stops it, Storybrooke will be destroyed. Along with everyone in it." He met her gaze and hoped he didn't look as frightened as she did. "He's on his way over here. He says if these are his last moments, he wants to spend them with people that he loves."

Paige was shocked. She sat her mug down to sign, **We're all going to die? **She pulled the bassinet closer to herself, but since the baby was napping, Paige decided not to pick her up just now.

"Horne says it will take strong magic to stop this thing – maybe stronger than anyone in town can handle. There's nothing we can do but hope."

Paige picked up her mug and drank, then stared into her tea for a long moment. When she lifted her head again, she looked calmer. She put the mug down again to free her hands. **Call your brother. And the Blue family. Oh, and the Groves, and anyone else you can think of. Tell everyone so they can all be together with their families.**

She wished there was something she could do to help, but she knew that her magical abilities, inherited from her fairy ancestor, were practically non-existent. She would only be in the way if she tried to help. But she could spend this time with people she cared about, and send thoughts of goodwill out to whoever might be trying to stop this destruction.

* * *

><p>Rumpelstiltskin used long, silvery tongs to hold a small glass jar over a flame that spouted from nowhere. The medicine that had saved the princess Hazel was inside, and as it came to a boil, he added a few ingredients. First was a cascarilla powder made from one of the eggshells of the pair of transformed mandarin ducks that owed him their existence, as well as a pinch of the invisibility powder he had made from the recipe Muffet had acquired for him so that he would lift the Goldilocks spell.<p>

That made the clear liquid turn bright blue, but when he added the lock of hair he had recently acquired, it fizzed orange. He kept the jar over the flames until the liquid became a dark, murky red, then he took a step to the side. A large, silver bowl was now in front of him, with the two original birth certificates lying within. He poured the potion evenly over the documents, which sizzled and evaporated on contact. Before the steam cleared, he dropped a single strand of Regina's hair into the bowl.

When all was said and done, the bowl held a silvery-looking powder. There wasn't much, but it would be enough. Rumpelstiltskin carefully used a tiny silver ladle to scoop the powder into a small vial.

He had already received Cinderella's summons, and had responded to tell her exactly when he would arrive. Before he left his castle, he took a last look around. He rather doubted he would ever see this place again, not that it really mattered. Even if someone were to try looting the place, they wouldn't find the things he had stashed here, just in case.

There were just a few more things he meant to take with him. There was the squid ink, which was already tucked into a hidden pocket, and now he secreted the vial of powder on his person, as well. He hesitated over the flask of blueberry brandy before he tucked that into his sleeve. It was nearly gone, but it was a _very_ good brandy. He might as well finish it before they put him in that hideous cage.

In a puff of dark purple smoke, Rumpelstiltskin was gone.

* * *

><p>Mr. Gold wasn't sure how long he had been crying in Belle's arms, but he pulled back. There wasn't much time. "I've done so many terrible things lately," he confessed.<p>

"It's my fault," Belle replied tearfully. When he shook his head and started to protest, she insisted. "Yes, it was. If I'd had my own memories… Lacey just egged you on. She… _I_… encouraged the darkness. I'm so sorry, Rumple!"

"No, Belle," he said, his voice almost caressing her name. "No, you had no control over _any_ of what happened to you. _I _was the one who gave in to the darkness. I even… I did horrible things to Paige, because she refused to believe that I was still a monster."

"But you're not," Belle protested.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, grimacing at what he was about to confess. "I've done things that have most likely made her young man pull away even more. I should have stopped the dream as soon as I realized he was really there, but… but I didn't. I made her do things in front of him – no man should have to watch the woman he loves do those things with another man, but I kept on. Trying to prove to her that I really _am_ a terrible man. And do you know what she did?"

When the silence grew, Belle asked, "What, Rumple? What did she do?"

His face crumpled in misery. "She apologized because she wasn't you. Because she couldn't bring out the good in me the way you do. I may have ruined her happy ending, and she _apologized_ to me! I wish… I wish I'd at least helped her find her brothers."

"Are they really here, then?" Belle looked surprised.

"Somewhere," Gold replied. He opened the other door of the cabinet where he had kept the pieces of the teacup and withdrew the poorly-made stuffed dove that Paige had brought in. "I once made a thing that would find the place where the king had hidden his children – a bracelet, which I gave to the very witch who turned her brothers to swans." At the look on Belle's face, Gold gave an almost embarrassed shrug. "Yes, I was responsible for that part of Paige's misery, as well. I think she suspects it, though I haven't actually told her so." He cleared his throat. "Before this… _trigger_, before the end was brought upon us, I put a spell on this toy, so that if she were to place the bracelet around it, like so," he said as he demonstrated with his hand, "the bracelet will be able to locate her brothers here. But now… well, not helping her is something I regret. And… what I did to her in that dream."

Belle felt a small flash of jealousy at the thought of what he had done with Paige. But she also eyed the toy with regret. "I'm glad you didn't throw it out," she said, her eyes filling with tears. She had said some awful things to Paige while she was Lacey. Taking his free hand in both of hers, she added, "If someone _does_ manage to stop this, if we survive, you can give it to her then." She tried to smile reassuringly, but she could see that he didn't hold out any hope of living through the day.

* * *

><p>Regina hadn't arrived yet, but Rumpelstiltskin knew she would be along shortly. He pulled the little vial of powder out of the hidden pocket and removed the cork. After pouring the powder into his hand, he re-corked the empty bottle and tucked it into one of the little niches along the back wall. He rubbed the powder into his right palm, until his skin had absorbed it. Then he sat along the back of his cell, smirking as he sensed Regina's approach.<p>

He wondered when she was going to make her presence known, but the moments stretched on, so he said, "It's just us, now, dearie. You can _show_ yourself!"

In a puff of black smoke, one of the rats in the tunnel disappeared, leaving Regina in its place. The first thing she did was to stretch her neck, and Rumpelstiltskin thought he heard a faint crack. Apparently she found it uncomfortable to be a rat. He giggled softly to himself, partly at her discomfort, and partly in anticipation. This was going to be a fun encounter.

Regina announced that Curse he had given her was not working. He commented on how worried she was, and revealed that Snow and Charming had come to him because _they_ were worried, too. He revealed that the Dark Curse could be broken by their unborn child, and watched Regina's reaction. Most people would have thought that the new information was unimportant to Regina, but Rumpelstiltskin knew her better than that. She was affected, but she knew that was something she would have to deal with later, so she didn't allow it to worry her now. How very single-minded of her!

"You see," he said conversationally, "no matter how powerful, all curses can be broken!" In softer tones, he added, "Their child is the key. Of course, the Curse has to be _enacted_ first!"

"Tell me what I did wrong," Regina said in a low voice.

"For that, there's a price."

"What do you want?" asked Regina, sounding amused.

"Simple," Rumpelstiltskin replied, letting his face show his discontent, and a small part of his loathing for this filthy cell. "In this new land, I want comfort. I want a good life." He was saying this partly because he knew Regina would expect it, although being wealthy and powerful definitely had its advantages.

"Fine," Regina said dismissively, interrupting him. "You'll have an estate. Be rich."

In an exasperated yet almost playful tone, he said, "I wasn't finished! There's more!"

"There always is with you," Regina replied, as if she had been expecting that. He knew she had been _hoping_ that would be all, but she had been prepared for further negotiation. He didn't bother to suppress a devious chuckle.

"In this new land," he said, "should I ever come to you for any reason, you must heed my every request!" He spun out the word every into three syllables. "_You_ must do whatever I say. So long as _I _say… please!" He gave a small, dry laugh, making sure that his expression was overly delighted.

Regina's eyes narrowed. "You do realize that, should I succeed, you won't remember _any_ of this?"

"Oh, well, then… what's the harm?" he asked.

"Deal," Regina said, her arrogance filling the air like too much perfume. She truly thought she had gotten the best of him this time! He smirked at her.

"What must I do to enact this Curse?" she asked, trying – and failing – to hide her impatience from him.

"You need to sacrifice… a heart," he said quietly, miming the act of cutting out a heart over his own chest.

Regina's reply came as no surprise to Rumpelstiltskin – he already knew what she had tried. "I sacrificed my prize steed," she said, rather defensively. And it was true, she _had_ loved that horse. But, perhaps without being quite aware of it, she had chosen the horse as a lesser sacrifice to the one she _truly_ loved.

In a fit of rage that he didn't need to feign, Rumpelstiltskin leaped over to the bars, reaching through and grabbing Regina's throat with his right hand. She didn't allow herself to react. "A horse?" he asked incredulously. "This is the Curse to end _all_ curses; you think a _horse_ is going to do?" His voice dropped lower. "Great power requires great sacrifice. The heart you need must come from something far more… precious."

"Tell me what will suffice," she said calmly, still acting as if his hand gripping her throat was nothing to be concerned about.

"The heart of the thing you love most," he whispered. He knew that would get her.

And it did. She finally reacted by grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from her throat with a swift jerk. "What I love most died because of Snow White," she said heatedly.

"Oh!" he replied, looking at her as if in concern. "Is there no one else you _twuly_ love?" He stroked her cheek with his finger as he watched her eyes grow sullen. It had finally sunk in, and now she understood what she needed to do. "This Curse isn't going to be easy. Vengeance never is, dearie. You have to ask yourself a simple question." He added a third syllable to the word question. "How far are you willing to go?"

After a moment, she leaned toward him and replied, "As far as it takes." She was trying to pretend that the idea of killing her father didn't affect her, but he knew it wasn't true. But he didn't bother to call her out on it.

"Then _please_ stop wasting everyone's time and just _do_ it," he said, letting her hear the impatience. "_You _know what you love. Now go kill it."

They stared at each other for a moment, then Regina turned and disappeared in another puff of black smoke.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled softly to himself. He knew that the contact had lasted more than long enough. Now Regina's whim was of no great concern – the three tiny kingdoms where he had made his plans would be included in the casting of the Dark Curse.

* * *

><p>When Regina reappeared in her castle, the first thing she did was to raise her right hand to massage her throat. The same hand that she would use very shortly to rip out her own father's heart, though she felt conflicted at the moment.<p>

* * *

><p>Paige hated this. Just sitting here, waiting for the end to come. Something about it just didn't feel right, but there was nothing she could do. A tree had suddenly shot up in front of the duplex, and Paige thought that it had only just missed destroying their front porch. Mike had wanted to go outside in case the roof fell in, but Dr. Horne had pointed out that they would die no matter where they were. However, Paige shared her mother's love of the outdoors, so she had suggested they go out into the garden. She and Mike were on the bench under the trellis where the roses would grow in nicer weather, with Horne standing nearby, holding Aurelia. They had all been taking turns comforting the baby.<p>

They could hear people screaming in the streets, rushing around trying to find a safe place, and part of Paige wanted to join them, just to have something to do. At least the tremors seemed to have stopped, though she could feel that her muscles were still tense. She didn't know if she was still reacting to the most recent tremor, or if her subconscious mind was trying to prepare for more. She swallowed hard and hoped there wouldn't _be_ any more.

Vines grew across the yard like the appendages of some kind of reaching, nightmarish monster. One of them curled around the small fountain on the other side of the yard, and continued to grow around it. Paige wondered if the stone would crumble under the pressure of the forest reclaiming Storybrooke, though the fountain seemed undamaged so far. Mike must have worried about the same thing, because he made a small sound, and Paige tightened her arms around him. That fountain had been put there as a memorial to his father, or so Mike's Curse memories had insinuated. No matter how false those memories were, they still resonated deeply with everyone in town, which was why it had been so hard for so many people right after the Curse had been broken.

Suddenly, she thought of Mr. Gold. He probably only had Lacey with him, and Paige had no doubt that he knew exactly what was happening. After all, he had created the Dark Curse. That's when it hit her. As the creator of the Curse, would he be spared? Or would he die, too? Or perhaps he was already dying, perhaps his well-being was affected by this. If someone were to stop the undoing of the Curse, would he still die, anyway? Regardless, she decided that she couldn't let him die with just Lacey for company, assuming the rude, useless girl hadn't just run for her life when all this started up. But…

**Mike, I'm afraid… I'm afraid that Mr. Gold is going to die alone. Even if Lacey **_**did**_** stay with him, which I rather doubt, he still has no one who truly cares to be with him for this.** She swallowed hard. **I don't want that for him, I want to go to him, but… but if you ask me to stay here, I will.**

Mike blinked at her, and she could see the shine of unshed tears. Then he stood up and took her hand. Turning to Horne, who had been looking at Aurelia and hadn't seen Paige's signs, he said, "Paige doesn't want Mr. Gold to have to die alone. So, let's all go. So we can still be together, the four of us, but so she can… so Gold won't die alone, either."

Paige smiled at him, a tear streaking down one cheek. **Thank you, Mike! Thank you for understanding.**

With a wry smile, Mike replied, "Well, if it turns out this isn't the end, I guess I need to try to come to terms with your friendship with him at _some _point in time. Why not start now?"

Horne offered Paige the baby, but she signed, **I'd better not, in case there are more tremors on the way. I don't want to drop her, or squeeze her too hard. But when we get there… or if we realize we aren't going to make it there… **She didn't want to finish that thought, so she just let the rest go unsaid. The two men surely knew exactly what she meant, anyway.

* * *

><p>They hadn't even gotten halfway to Gold's shop before the forest receded. They looked around in wonder as the trees and vines that had been reclaiming their former territory faded away. Paige wondered if the duplex's front yard would still show any damage from the tree that had probably also disappeared.<p>

Though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer, she signed, **What's happening?**

Horne was smiling widely. "This undoing of the Curse, it is having been stopped. We are being all saved!"

They had been crossing the street when the destruction stopped, and now they just stood there in the middle of the road and hugged, all three of them. Horne carefully held Aurelia to the side. Paige broke away and leaned down to kiss her daughter's soft, tiny forehead. Then her smile faded.

**Since he's the one who made the Curse, this still might have affected him… maybe even…**

"Don't think like that," Mike said, even though a part of him wouldn't mind if it were so. "Let's go check on him, just in case, but I'm sure he's fine." When Paige turned away to start toward the pawn shop again, Mike shook his head. He couldn't believe he was consoling Paige about that dirty old man. But he had made a promise, and before the Curse, he had never been one to go back on his promises. And he truly wanted to be that man again, even though things had changed so much.

But when they arrived at the pawn shop, no one was there, and the door was locked. So Paige turned and headed for his house. But before they had gone very far, she stiffened. She turned to sign, **What was that?**

"I didn't feel anything," Mike said.

But Horne knew. "That was being some form of magic portal, Paige. From the way it was feeling, I think it was perhaps being a magic bean, though those were growing no more, as I had been understanding it. Perhaps more were being found somewhere, or else that giant was being persuaded to stop his destroying of town and be starting a new crop of beans. That was actually being the third time such a portal was used recently, but you were seeming to be not noticing of the first and second portals."

Thinking back, Paige _had_ felt something before, but the second time she had assumed that it was something to do with the Curse being undone. She couldn't remember why she had ignored the first one, but maybe it'd had something to do with Ed's funeral.

**They all came from the direction of the docks, **she signed. **Let's go see if we can find out what's happening.**

Mike and Horne just nodded, and they turned down the next street that would take them in the right direction.

* * *

><p>As the pirate's ship crested the edge of the portal, Gold wanted to look back. Though they were probably too far out to see anyone still on the docks, he might catch a glimpse of Belle's blue coat. But he had to hold on – it would be a rough ride through the portal. He also needed to be focused on what lay ahead. He <em>really<em> didn't want to back to Neverland, but he _had_ to save Henry. These poor fools who had come with him didn't stand a chance against Pan. Even though it would be the end of him, _he _was the only one who could save Henry. If the others could manage to find a way to bring the boy home again, that was all well and good, though he doubted it would work. But at least the boy would have his family around him after he was saved.

* * *

><p>A Few Notes:<p>

This chapter takes place during the episode "And Straight On Til Morning."

The song Mike quotes is "Come To Me" by the Goo Goo Dolls. And by the way, he actually skips a word in the first line that he quotes. The full line goes, "you and me, we've both got sins, and I don't care _about_ where you've been." I was typing too fast and realized I had missed that word, then decided to leave it like it is and have Mike slightly misquote the song, since it is clearly not a song he is familiar with.

Please review!


End file.
